


Knives & Seasoning

by Winona_Wren



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Aquariums, Armitage Hux Being An Asshole, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Blow Jobs, Cooking, Cooking As A Love Lanugage, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Han Is Paralyzed, Heavy Petting, Height Differences, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo has a friend with benefits that isn't Rey but that won't be the case for long, Making Out, Masturbation, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Miscommunication, Morning Sex, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Past Abuse, Past Car Accident, Past physical abuse, Praise Kink, Protective!Ben, Public Display of Affection, References to Depression, Rey Has Abandonment Issues, Rey Has Issues (Star Wars), Rey is Not a Palpatine (Star Wars), Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Stressful Work Environment, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Trivia Night with The Gang, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Woman on Top, no infidelity, past emotional/psychological abuse, past trauma, protective!rey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 66,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28164417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winona_Wren/pseuds/Winona_Wren
Summary: People know him as Kylo Ren, one of the most talented chefs to ever grace the culinary world. He works as the head chef at the Michelin Star restaurantThe First Order, which he runs with an iron fist and a fiery temper. Mistakes simply won't be tolerated. It's no secret that if you can't handle the heat, he'll gladly toss you out with the trash.Rey knows him as Ben. For a very brief time, they went to culinary school together. Back then, he was sweet and helpful and definitelynotthe second coming of the devil himself. She's recently been hired as his sous chef, but she quickly discovers that things don't run as smoothly as she wants them to. They butt heads more often than they fulfill orders, and screaming matches are their shared language.Maybe if he'd stop staring at her like that, she'd be able to get this damn order out to tables 10, 28, and 5...Maybe if she'd stop grazing up against him while he worked, he'd be able to come up with that new menu his demanding patron has been impatiently waiting on...
Relationships: Bazine Netal/Ben Solo, Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 465
Kudos: 700





	1. The New Hire

Control. That's what he likes the most about running his own kitchen.

Everything has its place. Everyone has their roles to fulfill. Everything is measured and timed and seasoned.

He likes his knives dangerously sharp -only because it's more dangerous to work with a dull blade- and he likes his waiters to pick up orders the second the plates hit the line. He's never bothered with a chef's hat because they're quite frankly pompous as fuck and it's hot enough in here as it is. He keeps his apron clean and the sleeves of his black chef jacket rolled up to just below his elbows. 

Trained at the prestigious Ahch-To Institute of Culinary Arts. Seven Michelin stars under his belt. Grandson to one of the most famous chefs -and perhaps most controversial- chefs in the world. He's the pristine image of the world-class chef everyone believes him to be. He's the great and almighty Head Chef of The First Order, Kylo Ren. 

But right now?

Right now, he's stressed as fuck, and _boy_ does his kitchen staff know it.

"What the hell is this?" he asks, voice booming over the roar of hood fans and sizzling skillets.

"A steak," Poe answers evenly, though the hard set of his jaw betrays his cool tone.

Kylo stiffens, staring down his nose at the rotisseur. He lowers his voice, quiet and still and somehow more frightening than when he was yelling. "I don't want to make a parody of myself, Dameron. But if this steak were any rarer, it'd still be alive on the damn pasture. The table wants it cooked well-done." Kylo shoves the plate into Poe's hands and shouts, "How are you this fucking incompetent? Is this the first fucking meal you've ever cooked in your miserable excuse of a life?"

Poe runs a hand through his dark brown hair with a huff. "My station's swamped already. I've been trying to-"

"I don't need your excuses. I need a cook who can do their damn job."

Finn, the pattisier, quietly clears his throat. "Um, chef?"

Kylo turns in one swift motion, the movement both effortlessly aggressive and terrifying. "What?" he snaps.

Finn is only a few inches shorter than Kylo, and just as well-built. Nevertheless, Finn tries -and fails- to hide a wince. "The new hire is here. For the sous chef position."

"Sous chef?" he echoes, frustrated. "I don't-"

He cuts himself off when he spots movement from out of his periphery. All he catches is a glimpse, but it's more than enough.

A wisp of light brown hair. Tanned skin. The worn-down fabric of a white chef's coat that's seen better days.

Then he remembers. Kylo had hired his last sous chef, Mitaka, almost three months ago. He hadn't even bothered to tell Kylo that he quit in person. The sniveling bastard had stuffed his resignation letter into the pocket of one of Kylo's spare aprons last week, and that was that. Couldn't handle the demands of the job, apparently. Very few can.

Kylo couldn't say that it was a surprise. It was more of an inconvenience, if anything. Despite his confidence as a chef, he knew handling an entire kitchen like this one without a second-in-command would be next to impossible. Hence the new, last-minute hire.

The new hire that was now staring at him.

The new hire that was, for some reason, incredibly familiar to him for some reason. He couldn't quite figure out why, though.

"I was expecting a man," Kylo states.

He half-expects her to blanche or flush or quiver like a mouse beneath his intense scrutiny. Kylo's more than aware of the kind of affect he has on people.

He's intimidating. He's powerful. He's in his element.

The woman lifts her chin and holds his gaze, almost defiant. "I get that a lot," she replies calmly, the lovely lilt of an accent gracing her words. She sticks her hand out and says, "I'm Rey. It's nice to meet you."

Kylo doesn't shake her hand. He glances at his watch, instead. "You're late."

Rey frowns. "I'm fifteen minutes early for my scheduled shift."

He glares at the other kitchen staff and arches an eyebrow. "Gentlemen?" he prompts.

"Fifteen minutes is on time, and on time is late," the chorus of chefs mumble in practiced unison.

Again, Rey doesn't seem fazed. She takes it in stride, even going so far as to give Kylo a polite -albeit incredibly tight- smile. "Duly noted. Won't happen again, chef."

 _Chef_.

There's something about the way she says it that makes Kylo's ears ring. It's gentle, but there's a hint of snark buried somewhere deep down.

He decides he doesn't like it.

Kylo gives her a disinterested once over. She's a scrawny little thing. Short, thin, a splash of faded freckles across the tops of her cheeks and bridge of her nose. Rey doesn't exactly look the part of a sous chef. If Kylo didn't know any better, he'd mistake her for the kitchen porter, or maybe even the dishwasher.

It's not that he doesn't think women can cook. Far from it. It's just that Rey's resumé boasted accolades and years of prior experience working in kitchens like this one. But the woman standing before him is just so small and quiet and -well- ordinary. Nothing about her screams _haute cuisine_. Nothing about her suggests authority, which is a must if she's going to be his sous chef.

But the night is young, and Rey hasn't even had the chance to prove she's not completely useless. If she is, Kylo will have her replaced. It's just that simple.

"Dameron," he snaps. "Give her a tour. Keep her at your station for tonight."

"And the steak?"

"I'll make the damn thing myself." Kylo turns to Rey. "Tomorrow. Two hours early."

Her eyes widen ever so slightly. Kylo finds satisfaction in finally eliciting a a normal response. "Two hours? Um, I don't know if I can-"

"Training starts bright and early. Unless you don't think you can handle it. If that's the case, you can just go. You'll only be in the way."

Rey purses her lips. "Who says I can't handle it?"

Kylo doesn't bother responding. It's an abnormally busy day, and even though the restaurant has only been open for an hour, orders are already trickling in. There's still a million and one things to do.

Tickets to call. Dishes to verify and plate. Steaks to _not_ screw up.

Dinner rush hits them like a tidal wave, but Kylo's prepared. He always is. He's been doing this long enough to know how to keep things moving. The enemy to any kitchen is when orders pile up. Food stops going out, orders keep coming in, chefs become overwhelmed with ten different dishes that they're trying to prepare at the exact same time. It's a nightmare.

But Kylo keeps things moving, calling out times and demanding accountability and telling his chefs to get their heads out of their asses and focus on the tables that have been waiting the longest. It's an extra headache, not having a sous chef at the ready to help him with plating and putting out fires -one of them quite literal- but he manages somehow.

By the end of the night, his feet fucking hurt. There's no such thing as sitting down on the job. Not unless you want to be in the way. Kylo sucks it up, leans into the ache of his arches, and helps send out the last of the dessert that Finn has diligently prepared. Kylo has to give credit where credit is due. Finn's handmade éclairs are to die for. It's just a shame that he takes forever to make them.

Kylo's about to ring the the bell to call for a pick-up when something distracts him.

A woman's laugh.

 _Rey's_ laugh.

It's light and sweet and genuinely happy.

He risks a glance over his shoulder. Rey and Poe are at the meat station, already cleaning up the area and preparing for closing. They speak to one another in hushed tones, leaning in slightly like they're sharing secrets. They look like this is perfectly natural, like two old friends who've done this countless times before. It doesn't take long before Finn wanders over and joins the conversation. Kylo briefly wonders what they're talking about.

Then he shakes his head. He doesn't care. He rings the bell and sends out the last order of the day.

Rey laughs again, bright and bubbly.

Kylo ignores her wide smile and concentrates on cleaning up for the night. He sincerely hopes that she isn't this much of a chatterbox once she's fully trained. Kylo doesn't like personal conversations during work hours. There are too many moving parts in the kitchen, lots of sharp objects and hot metal and scalding water. Unnecessary noise will only get in the way of giving out clear, concise orders.

His dark brown eyes lock with her light hazel ones. Rey looks away quickly, and Kylo suddenly realizes that he's been glaring this whole time. He turns to head toward the kitchen doors to check on the maître d'. The sooner the last customers eat, pay and leave, the sooner they can all clock out and call it a night.

The sound of Rey's laugh echoes quietly in the back of his skull.

Somewhere deep down, Kylo knows that tomorrow's training will prove incredibly interesting.


	2. Licorice Powder

Rey has a confession to make. She may or may not have embellished a few things on her resumé to get this job.

Who's she kidding?

She _definitely_ embellished _a lot_ of things on her resumé to get this job.

She did attend the Ahch-To Institute of Culinary Arts ten years ago. For all of two weeks. Had it not been for the fact that Plutt -she hated to even think of the man- secretly gambled away her scholarship money, Rey would have been able to stay. She should have known that she could never be that lucky.

She was admittedly incredibly worried when she got the call about the sous chef position, concerned that Ben would recognize her and realize how full of shit she was.

Except he didn't. There didn't seem to be an inkling of recognition in those cold, hard eyes.

He apparently goes by Kylo Ren now, but Rey will always know him as Ben.

Ben, the mildly dorky, adorably sweet apprentice chef who shared a handful of classes with her -however brief her stint at Ahch-To truly was. It had been many years since Rey was forced to leave the school of her dreams, but she'll always remember the way Ben helped point her in the right direction on her first day of class. Or the fact that he always seemed to smell like roasted hazelnuts and vanilla. Or the fact that his smile used to light up a room.

The contrast of who he was and who he is now is jarring.

A part of her wants to ask what the fuck happened, but it will only expose the truth that she never finished culinary school. Rey can already see how the conversation will pan out. She'll ask why he turned into such a prick. He'll ask how they know each other. She'll say they met at school. And then he'll undoubtedly look into her credentials and realize exactly to what extent that she's a fraud. Half of her references are fake, and the majority of her listed work experience has been greatly overexaggerated.

But Rey needs this job.

So, as curious as she is, she keeps her mouth shut.

Getting to The First Order two hours earlier than she'd planned is a pain in the ass. She has to grab a different bus transfer, then take two separate subway trains, followed by a quick sprint from the station to the restaurant's back doors to make it on time. The cold winter air burns her lungs and rips at her throat. By the time she arrives, Rey is out of breath and starting to sweat. Her hair -which she's thrown up into a bun to keep out of her eyes- is a windswept mess.

She bursts through the doors to find Kylo leaning against the silver preparation table, looking at his watch while casually sipping a coffee in his other hand.

"You're a minute late."

Rey isn't a violent person, but she really wants to kick him in the shin. She refrains because -yeah, no- kicking her new boss will probably be frowned upon.

Probably.

"It won't happen again," she says, but Kylo's already turning away.

"Dameron showed you where the walk-in fridge is, right?"

"Yes, he did."

Kylo nods once. "Good. Go make me something."

Rey frowns. "What?"

"Consider it your interview."

"But you've already hired me."

"Talk is cheap. All I give a shit about is if you can cook. So, go make me something."

Rey supposes that makes a lot of sense. Anybody can say they know the difference between a croque monsieur and a croque madame, but none of it means anything if they can't actually make it edible. This is a skills-based trade they're in. Kylo's not wrong in wanting a demonstration.

If he wants her to whip something up for him to judge, fine.

"Do you have any specific requests?" she asks, shrugging off her winter coat to reveal a plain white tank top underneath. She wastes no time pulling her second-hand chef jacket out of her backpack and slipping it on.

Kylo's eyes flit from her collarbone to her exposed neck before looking away entirely. "Surprise me. You have an hour."

"And I have free reign of ingredients?"

He glances at his watch. "You have fifty-nine minutes," he corrects before taking another sip of his coffee.

Rey fights the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she gets to work.

She's only mildly perturbed that Kylo remains where he is, watching her every move like a hawk. It's intense, his eyes. She can feel the heat of his stare on her skin, observing her, waiting for her to make a mistake. Rey remembers how focused Ben used to be in class, but this is on a whole other level.

This is scrutiny.

Her nerves don't win out.

Every measurement is precise. Every cut is clean. Every choice of herbs and spice is complimentary.

She tastes as she goes. Her palate has never failed her. Rey knows exactly how much salt and pepper to add after half a bite. She knows how much chicken stock to add based off the texture on her tongue.

Kylo's eyes watch her as she brings another spoon to her mouth. His gaze lingers on her lips.

Rey, for a moment, is self-conscious. Do the other chefs here not work the same way? It's imperative for a chef to taste their work. Sometimes that's the only way to know if a dish will turn out right. This is as much a science as it is an artform, and minor verification tests along the way are perfectly acceptable.

_So why the hell is he staring at me like that?_

She wonders if she's made a mistake somewhere, if she's screwed up somehow and Kylo is the kind of asshole who won't point out the problem until _after_. Just so he can rub it in her face. He definitely gives off that kind of vibe.

"What?" Rey asks, preparing to plate. She grabs a lovely ornate dish from off the shelves below the cooking station, gilded filigree wrapping around the circumference.

"Licorice powder?" he replies flatly. "For a saffron risotto."

"I was going to use white truffle shavings, but I know how expensive truffle is."

"Licorice powder," he says again.

Rey hands him the plate and a clean spoon. "Don't knock it before you try it."

Kylo eyes the food. Rey knows she did everything right. This is exactly how her mother used to make it.

Chicken stock for saltiness. White wine for acidity. Butter for creaminess. Parmigiano-Reggiano for nuttiness. A pinch of saffron for earthiness and color. And the licorice powder? That's to add an unexpected hint of sweetness.

Perfectly balanced.

Kylo takes a bite. She holds her breath. His face is frigid and unreadable. Rey honestly can't tell if he likes it or hates it. Somehow, not knowing is the worst possible outcome.

She's about to ask for his opinion when a group of chefs enter the restaurant. She recognizes two of them, Finn and Poe, having met them the day before. There's also a young Asian woman with them with cute cropped bangs. Rey immediately smiles at them when they approach, even chancing a small wave.

Poe claps Rey on the shoulder and chuckles. "Looks like Hux owes me twenty bucks."

"Why?" she asks.

"We like to make bets on how long the newbies are going to last. Hux -the angry redhead- said you'd quit by morning."

The Asian woman grins. "I'm Rose, since dickhead here hasn't bothered to introduce us. I'm one of the other patisiers."

"She works at my station," Finn states proudly.

Rose scoffs. "You mean _my_ station. I've been here longer."

"By, like, a day."

Rey laughs. "Oh, I think she's got you beat, then."

Rose smirks and nudges Rey in the arm with the tip of her elbow. "I knew I was going to like you."

"So," Poe says, "how did things go this morning? Did he give you the speech?"

Rey raises a brow, amused. "The speech?"

"You know. The _this-is-my-kitchen-so-you-need-to-follow-my-rules_ speech."

"It's a right of passage," Rose adds.

"He likes to make you cry before you start here," Finn notes. "To assert dominance."

"That's terrible," Rey replies. "But, um... No. He didn't give me the speech. He just-"

Rey looks to where Kylo is standing. _Was_ standing. He's disappeared without a trace, likely having slipped away while the others struck up a conversation with her. Rey can see that the door to the kitchen office has been shut, and she assumes that Kylo's retreated for the time being.

It looks like her role as sous chef is safe.

For now.

"Come on," Finn says. "Everybody else should be arriving shortly. I'll introduce you."

Rose looks to Poe while gesturing at Finn. "See? That's how not to be a dickhead."

"Yeah, yeah," Poe says dismissively.

Rey falls into the swing of things quickly. She's always had to been a fast learner. Necessity always requires adaption. While the space is totally new to her, the functions of the equipment and the roles everyone plays is not. She can do this. She can be a second-in-command, even if she has to fake it until she makes it. The key is confidence. The second she wavers...

The second she wavers is the second her truth is exposed.

 _I can't let that happen_. _I won't_.

So she watches and she learns, rapidly acclimatizing to the way things work here. Everyone's so efficient here. It's actually a little frightening. People move fast and with purpose, preparing their mise for the night's service. She learns the names of all the chefs, the waitstaff, the dishwashers. She acquaints herself with the location of the produce in the walk-in fridge, as well as the dry goods in the storage room.

Kylo is notably absent during prep.

"Who's the owner?" she asks Rose as she helps bring a huge bag of sugar over to the dessert station.

Rose visibly shivers. "Um... Well, he's..." She trails off. "Where did you work before this?" Rose asks, changing the topic completely.

"Oh, uh... Here and there," Rey supplies.

"Did you specialize in a type of cuisine?"

"Not really. I dabbled in this and that. Italian, mostly. French. I worked at an Asian fusion restaurant for a few years, too."

It's all a lie, of course, but Rey doesn't want Rose to know that. 

"Asian fusion," a man behind them scoffs.

Rey and Rose turn to find Kylo there, a grey plastic bin full of dirty prep dishes in his hands. He holds it out to Rey and she has no choice but to take it, lest she wants dishes to come crashing down at her feet.

"Yes," she says, holding her head up high. _Confidence. The key is confidence_. "What of it?"

"Take these to the dish pit," he tells her instead of answering. "When you're done, join me at the front of the line. We just heard from an unexpected party of fifty. They'll be coming in at the start of service."

Rey swallows. "Fifty? That's-"

Kylo glares at her. "What? You're not scared, are you?"

She _really_ wants to kick him in the shin.

"No," she grumbles. "I just think it's inconsiderate to show up with a party like that unannounced."

Kylo snorts. "Up front. One minute. Let's see what you're made of, kid." He walks away without another word.

Rey takes the bin of dirty dishes to the pit, as instructed, placing it down with a hard thump and rattle onto the counter. It's then that she notices the ornate plate she'd used before to serve Kylo the saffron risotto sitting atop the pile.

It's completely clean, every ounce of it savored.

Triumph rises in her chest. It feels like a win. Her head spins, high off the thrill.

It's just a shame that all highs eventually have to come crashing down.


	3. Baptism By Fire

He loves his job.

He also really fucking hates it. 

_Especially_ because of nights like this.

Rey wasn't wrong when she said an unexpected party of fifty -fucking _fifty_ \- was inconsiderate. It's probably the biggest asshole move in the history of asshole moves. No reservation. Not even a courteously call ahead of time. They apparently just showed up at the front door and gave the poor hostess, Kaydel, a seriously hard time when she said that there might be a wait. They're a bunch of hotshot investment bankers or something -Kylo doesn't give a shit- and they deliberately spread out across multiple tables, spanning different sections so the waitstaff has no idea who's responsible for whom.

He lets the maître d' handle the sitting arrangements.

It's in the kitchen that Kylo reigns supreme.

Unfortunately, it's a shit show.

Fifty orders at once means there's no time to stagger. Food has to arrive at the same time -or just about- hot and ready for their patrons to eat. Kylo counts his lucky stars that the majority of the party's guests pick from the night's specials menu, ordering roughly twenty lobster tails that have been prepared earlier that day in anticipation of high seasonal demand. It's only a matter of time before they run out, however, and they still have an entire service to get through. It's chaos in the making, and Kylo only has so much time.

"I want the orders for 9, 11, and 15!" he shouts from the front of the kitchen. "Where's the escargot for table 4?"

"Right here," Rey says, taking the plate from Zorii, the on-call boucher, so that the latter can get right back to making seven more orders.

He rings the bell for service. A waiter shows up out of nowhere, popping into existence to spirit the appetizer away.

Rey is everywhere and nowhere all at once, hopping from one station to another to ease the load wherever she can. She tries to be helpful, but more often than not only ends up getting in the way. It's clear that she doesn't know the kitchen well enough yet, struggling to find the exact ingredient she needs or sometimes failing to hear his ticket calls.

Rey's demonstration dish might have been the most delicious thing he's eaten in a very long time, but her disorganization is a huge detractor. The more he watches, the more annoyed he gets.

 _It's almost like she's untrained_.

He pushes the thought away. That can't be right. It's probably just the unfortunate combination of stress due to her first day being on the kitchen floor _and_ the asshole party of fifty out front. It's a terrible cocktail to be thrown into, but if there's one thing that Kylo's certain of, it's baptism by fire.

"Rose, where the fuck is that crème brûlée?" he snaps. "Dameron, Jesus Christ, how is this undercooked _again_?"

Nobody responds, individual tunnel visions blocking him out. They're too focused on their tasks at hand to realize he's even speaking.

That just pisses him off more.

"What the fuck guys? I need you to pay fucking attention!"

"They're doing their best," Rey says. Her words take him by surprise.

"Their best clearly isn't good enough," he retorts. "This is fucking unacceptable. If you guys don't get your shit together, you'll be working at McDonald's by the end of the week."

Rey huffs, exasperated. "Yelling at them isn't going to fix the problem."

For once in his life, Kylo doesn't have a response ready. His old sous chef never had the guts to talk back. It was always _yes, chef_ and _of course, chef_ and _you're absolutely right, chef_.

Rey?

She’s proving to have a backbone, and Kylo isn't sure how to deal with that. He wants to yell at her, too, growing more and more frustrated with every passing second. But before he can even open his mouth, Rey expertly slips away to help the saucier. Like she _knows_ he’s about to throw a fit.

Like she knows _him_.

Service drags on for endless hours, never letting up to give them an opportunity to breathe. It's just one problem after another, and -despite his years of experience- Kylo begins to feel uneasy. Nothing's going right.

Poe nicks his finger with his knife and has to step away from his station to clean the wound and staunch the bleeding. Immediately after that, Rose and Finn accidentally crash into each other, spilling massive tubs of whipped cream all over themselves and the floor. His chef de partie, Hux, slips in the mess, bringing a stack of plates tumbling down along with him. Shards of porcelain explode haphazardly across the tile floor.

"Stop! Everybody just fucking stop!"

His command slices through the kitchen. Nobody dares to move, not even to stir the pot that's very clearly about to boil over.

Just like his anger.

There's a throbbing pain behind his eyes, warning him of the skull-splitting headache awaiting him. He can feel his pulse in his fucking _teeth_. It'd be so damn easy to let his rage out on the nearest employee. His head is seconds away from imploding. His back hurts from having to carry this fucking restaurant all by his damn self. Kylo wants to put his fist through a wall. He wants to sprint into the walk-in, lock the door behind him, and scream until his voice gives out.

The bitter fury almost gets the better of him. Just as he's about to open his mouth to scream a string of less-than-appropriate comments, his eyes lock with hers.

Rey observes him, big hazel eyes staring up and awaiting instruction. Her brows are pulled together in a question: _What do you want us to do?_

He stares back. _Fuck if I know_.

Kylo finally turns and leaves through the back doors of the kitchen, stepping out into the cold back alley. He doesn't know what to do. Things have never fallen apart this badly before. He can already imagine the terrible reviews that are going to haunt The First Order for years. People will no doubt complain about the slow service, receiving the wrong orders, the god-awful wait times.

He doesn't end up putting his fist through a wall, mainly because his hands are too important to fuck up. How can he hope to hold a knife or do anything else useful if he's accidentally broken a finger?

Kylo pulls out a small carton from the back pocket of his dark jeans and pulls out a cigarette. He lights it and takes a long, deep drag of smoke. He feels better, but just barely.

He just needs a second. He just needs a second to gather his thoughts, formulate a plan, and then he can get right back to-

"Alright, team. We've got this." Rey's voice is muffled and distant, but perfectly recognizable.

Curious, Kylo crushes his half-smoked cigarette beneath the heel of his shoe and goes back inside.

He's greeted by a cacophony of sound. Chefs hustle back and forth, moving with double the speed and triple the motivation. They communicate with one another, picking up the slack for each other so that nobody is left behind. The broken plates have been swept up and the spilled whipped cream has been mopped. There isn't a trace of a mess. Food is cooked, plates are arranged, orders are sent out.

And above all the organized chaos, Rey's compliments are loud and clear. "Good job on the dressing, Zorii. Be careful not to add too much lemon. Excellent work, Rose. I'm sure they'll love the tiramisu. That last dish was perfect, Poe. Try adding a bit more red wine to balance the flavor, though. That's fantastic, Finn. Can you bring the extra macarons out from the fridge when you have a second? Oh, that's okay, Hux. Take five and put some ice on your wrist just in case."

She's at the front of the line, having assumed his position.

Kylo stands there, dumbfounded. He doesn't understand how she's doing his job so effortlessly. Things were a nightmare until a few minutes ago, so how the fuck did she -little, quiet, unassuming Rey- manage to turn it all around while he wasn't looking?

Rey waves Kylo over. He joins her at the front, silently nursing his neck from the whiplash.

"Kept your spot warm," she says, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

"How did you-"

Rey pats him gently on the shoulder. "Come on. Just a few more chits and we'll be over the hill."

Kylo examines the printer sitting just beneath the line. She's right. The rate at which tickets are printing has slowed significantly.

"We can do this," she assures him.

He frowns, but nods once. How did Rey go from not knowing what she was doing to running the entire kitchen by herself? What had Kylo missed while out for a smoke?

Why is she still touching his shoulder? Were it anybody else, Kylo would have flinched out of the way. He hasn't let anybody touch him since...

Maybe his brain's just too fried to care anymore.

He clears his throat and takes a step away. The sudden lack of warmth from her fingers is noticeable. Kylo ignores this fact and gets back to work.

His new sous chef might be made of something special after all.

* * *

They get through it somehow. The party of asshat investment bankers at least had the decency to leave a generous tip atop their massive bill.

His staff is understandably exhausted, so they clean up for the night in silence. Everybody just wants to get the fuck out of here, so they close in record time. The majority of the chefs trickle out, hurriedly leaving to get to their cars. Kylo's waiting for the last couple of people to leave so that he can turn off the lights and lock the door.

Poe, Finn, and Rose are still gathering up their things. Rey's not five feet away

"Fuck," Poe sighs. "I need a drink. I need _three_ drinks."

"I think O'Malley's might still be open," Rose notes.

"That sounds really tempting," Finn adds, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Hey, Rey? Feel like grabbing a drink with us?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Kylo can see her smile politely. How she has the energy to be amicable is beyond him.

"Thanks for the offer, but I don't drink," she says. "And I have to be getting home, anyways."

Rose pumps her eyebrows. "Got a boyfriend at home waiting for you?"

Rey just laughs.

Kylo doesn't understand why the lack of an answer bothers him. He's probably just irritable because -yeah- fuck this night. His feet are killing him, his headache is in full force, and he just wants to go the fuck to sleep.

"Oh, well. Maybe next time, then." Finn turns and grins at Hux. "Feel like tagging along?"

Hux slings the strap of his bag over his shoulder, grumbling a string of profanities under his breath. He bumps into Rey on his way out, not bothering to apologize. When he passes Kylo by the door, Hux sneers, but doesn't look him in the eye. Kylo doesn't give two fucks.

"What's his problem?" Rey asks, slipping out of her chef jacket. It's covered in stains, and there are several loose threads at the seams.

Kylo notes that she doesn't seem to have a sweater or anything to put on, just her tank top and then her winter coat, which is in a similar state of disrepair like her work uniform. She really is just skin and bones. He briefly wonders if she managed to eat something on her break. But the thought is immediately followed-up with _she's an adult, she can take care of herself_.

"Ignore him," Rose says to Rey. "Hux is just bitter that he didn't get his promotion to sous."

Rey blinks. "Oh."

Kylo sighs loudly. "Less talk. More walking."

He finally manages to get everybody out the door. If he shuts it harder than necessary, nobody says anything. They exchange goodbyes and well wishes for good nights. Kylo doesn't stick around long enough to be extended an invitation for drinks, not that he expects to receive one. Not that he would care to join, either way. These are his employees. He's the boss.

They're not friends.

Finn, Poe, and Rose depart in the opposite direction, throwing waves over their shoulders.

"I want you here two hours early tomorrow," he says to Rey before she can escape into the evening.

"Again?"

"Got a problem with that?"

Rey chews on the inside of her cheek and glances down at her shoes. Her sneakers are filthy and run-down. "No problem at all."

Kylo leaves it at that and heads to his car. His black Audi is parked in the same spot it always is, the back corner stall at the very back of the restaurant's parking lot. He lets out a long, deep breath the second he's in the driver's seat and the door's shut behind him.

"Fucking hell," he grumbles to himself, closing his eyes.

He reviews the events of tonight's service like a play-by-play, determining where they went wrong and how he can fix things for tomorrow. Dameron's still undercooking his plates. It's either borderline carelessness, or he's really losing his touch. Kylo's sure to have words with Dameron later. Rose and Finn were behind for most of the night, and Kylo suspects it's because they're too damn chatty for their own good. He might have to put them in different sections if they keep distracting each other. Hux is miserable little fuck, as per usual, but at least he knows he can handle the pressure.

And Rey?

Rey surprised him. 

Clumsy at times, a force to be reckoned with at others. She wasn't afraid to stand up to him, which was both inexplicably frustrating and refreshing at the same time. He wonders what hidden talents tomorrow will bring.

Kylo opens his eyes and prepares to twist the key in the ignition. He stops short when he spots Rey on the other side of the street, standing at the bus stop near the curb. The bus shows up not five seconds later -the last one of the night- opening its doors open wide for her. The vehicle leaves and she's gone.

As he starts the engine and pulls out of the lot, Kylo thinks its weird Rey can't afford her own transportation. She's apparently worked as a sous chef for several restaurants before, and her salary there alone would have been more than enough to afford her a cheap car. Or, at the very least, a chef jacket that doesn't look like it's about to fall apart.

Maybe she's bad with her money. Maybe she's just super frugal.

In the end, it's none of his business.

He lights a cigarette to make up for the one he didn't finish earlier. He lets the burn of smoke build in his lungs as the memory of Rey touching his arm flashes across his mind.

"Whatever," he mumbles to himself as he drives home.


	4. Five Thousand

The first thing Rey does when she gets back to the apartment is toe off her shoes, walk over to the back of the living room couch, and flop head-first over the back to bury her face in the cushions.

Every inch of her body is sore. Her hands are dry from constant washing, her hair is a knotted mess, and she still has the scent of murky dish water up her nose.

She contemplates falling asleep then and there, but she knows she'll wake up with a kink in her neck and a knot between her shoulders. Rey sits up, forces herself to stand, and slowly but surely drag her dead feet down the hall to the bedroom.

_Got a boyfriend at home waiting for you?_

Rose's question was perfectly innocent, but somewhere deep down, Rey could feel the sting in her chest. No, there was nobody at home waiting for her. Her cramped one-bedroom apartment can only boast one resident, and she isn't there half the time anyways thanks to work.

Fridge, empty. Laundry, piling up. Dust, everywhere.

Rey has no time to clean. She has more important matters to take care of.

She heads over to her wardrobe -a white four-drawer cabinet from Ikea she managed to score when one of her neighbors moved out- and pulls the top drawer open. Rey reaches to the back and pulls out the large coffee tin she's hidden there, popping the plastic lid off to peer at the contents inside.

Cash. Lots of it.

She adds what she earned from tonight's service -the kitchen gets 5% of what the server's earn in tips- and closes the lid back up, replacing the coffee tin quickly.

"Only five thousand to go," she whispers to herself, half-reminder and half-assurance.

She forgoes taking a shower and decides to wash in the morning.

Right now, her bed beckons.

* * *

He's there before she is, tall and alert and appearing well-rested. Rey doesn't understand how he looks so refreshed considering how late they worked last night. His dark black hair is washed and absurdly fluffy. His face is serene in the daylight.

Then there's her. She's more than aware that her hair is still wet from her shower, and her bangs are doing that weird cow-lick thing she despises. There are dark circles beneath her eyes, her cheeks feel puffy, and she'd be willing to do just about anything to get one more hour of sleep.

 _So unfair_.

Kylo sips at his coffee, observing the time on his watch. Rey's really starting to hate that damn Rolex.

"Congratulations," he says dryly. "You're only late by thirty seconds."

"Traffic was awful," she replies, shrugging off her jacket to hang it up.

She's about to pull out her uniform jacket when Kylo shakes his head. "Stop."

"What?"

"You're not putting that thing on."

"Why not?"

"Because it's filthy."

"I washed it last night."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"I expect my chefs to look the part. You look like you stepped of the line of a burger chain."

Rey glares at him. "So what?

Kylo sets down his mug of coffee and tosses a plastic bag to her. Rey hadn't noticed the package sitting behind him because of his wide shoulders and large chest obscured the view. Inside is a brand-new black chef jacket, much like this own.

It's the prettiest thing Rey's ever seen. The First Order's logo is custom stitched beautifully into the front pen pocket in bright crimson thread. It has an asymmetrical collar with three-quarter length sleeves, made from a polyester and cotton blend. The fabric is soft beneath her fingers, and it smells like it was bought straight from the store.

"How much did this cost?" she asks, hoping that her voice comes out even.

"Don't worry about it," he says casually. "It'll just come out of your first paycheck."

Rey swallows. She can't have that. She knows it's stupid to count her eggs before they've hatched, but as far as she's concerned, all of her paychecks are spoken for. She's calculated for every last penny.

Rent, utilities, bus and train fare, groceries.

The rest goes to her coffee tin. She should be able to save five thousand in a little over two months provided she doesn't have any unnecessary expenses.

Like this new jacket, for instance. Even though it's really lovely and she knows her old one is disgusting and ill-fitting and stained an unfortunate yellow in certain areas. But she can't afford it. Custom, high-quality jackets like this one can be a couple hundred dollars. That's money she'd rather use elsewhere.

Rey has long since made peace with the fact that she quite literally can't have nice things.

She holds it back out to Kylo and glances to her shoes, which are also depressing to look at. "I can't accept this," she says. "My jacket's plenty fine."

When Kylo doesn't say anything, Rey glances up. She expects anger to be written all over his face.

Instead, she finds bemused curiosity.

He takes it back with a shrug. "Fine. Let's get started, then."

Rey takes a deep breath, relieved to finally get to work. "Are you going to walk me through tonight's specials?"

Kylo shakes his head. "No. You're going to make me another dish."

"Did you like my risotto that much?"

"Don't get cocky."

"Any requests?"

"Something you like."

Kylo takes a step back to observe as he sips at his coffee, observing in silence. Rey wastes no time and gets started, pulling out her leather knife roll from her backpack.

She has a preference for Japanese knives from Shun. They're lightweight and their slim pakkawood handles are comfortable to hold in her small hands. She's had these knives for a few years now, having found them for cheap at the local thrift store for nearly half of their actual value. Rey's grateful these knives found their way to her. They would have been wasted on anyone else.

She gathers the ingredients she needs and begins her prep, finely chopping stalks of green onion while she sautées minced chicken thighs in pad Thai sauce in a nonstick pan.

Kylo grimaces. "You know this is a French cuisine restaurant, right?"

Rey grins, but keeps her eyes on the food in front of her. "I know. I just wanted to get back at you for scoffing at Asian fusion."

She thinks she hears him groan under his breath, "Ugh."

"What do you have against it? Oh, wait. Let me guess. You're a haute cuisine purist."

"Damn straight."

Kylo's phone _dings_ a few times as she cooks, alerting him of a new text message. After briefly glancing at the screen, he shoves the phone back into his pocket. All of the messages go ignored.

"Don't you need to get that?" she asks as she mixes in some freshly beaten eggs.

"Nope," he replies before downing the rest of his caffeine. "So, what the fuck happened last night?"

"What?"

"What did you do? To turn everything around."

Rey shrugs. "I told them to calm down. Said some encouraging things. People respond well to positive reinforcement, you know."

He visibly shifts his weight from foot to foot, but makes no comment. Rey chances a glance at him. He looks confused, like the concept of being _nice_ to another living, breathing human being has never crossed his mind.

Rey plates everything up, bite-sized morsels a perfect for sharing. Not at The First Order -because apparently this place is too _fancy_ for something like this- but maybe elsewhere.

Kylo eyes the dish skeptically. "What the hell is it?"

"Pad Thai tacos," she says, beaming brightly.

He stares at her for a long while before sighing, "Christ."

"You said I could make something that I like. I happen to like these."

"Alright, fine."

"Just try one. You'll like it, I promise."

Kylo takes a bite and chews. He says nothing, leaving Rey in anticipation.

"Well?" she prompts. "Pretty good, right?"

"Satisfactory."

Rey deflates a little. That wasn't quite what she was expecting to hear. But then again, this isn't Ben she's talking to. Rey has to remind herself that the man standing before her, judging her food... They're two entirely different people.

Ben was encouraging, patient, and kind.

Kylo is -well- kind of a dick, to be honest.

Nevertheless, he ends up eating half of the mini-tacos before handing the plate back to her. Considering who she's dealing with, Rey takes it as a compliment that he didn't trash her efforts from the start.

"What do you want me to do with it?" she asks.

He wipes his large hands on the front of his apron. "Finish it off and then get started on prep. The others will be here in a few."

"Finish it off? You mean-"

Kylo's already gone, retreating into the shadows of the kitchen office.

Rey's mouth waters. She's been surviving on instant ramen and takeout menus for months now. Even though she works in a five-star restaurant, Rey can't even begin to dream of affording something off of The First Order's menu. She takes Kylo up on the offer and eats up every last crumb.

Today's shaping up to be a good day.


	5. Deconstructed Recipes [NSFW]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this is an NSFW chapter with explicit sexual content between Kylo and another character.

Today's is most certainly _not_ shaping up to be a good day.

Seeing the state of Rey's knives was physically painful for Kylo to stomach.

They were old as fuck, sharpened within an inch of their life. Even the fucking handles had been worn down from repeated use, dips in the wood where her fingers form a grip.

It's not uncommon for professional chefs to go through a new set once every three years or so. Kylo personally sharpens his work knives everyday well before service starts. He prefers German knives to Japanese ones. They're heavy and thick, offering perfect balance in his large hands. A chef is only as good as his tools.

Which is exactly why Kylo has no fucking idea how Rey's made it this far. She must be operating out of sheer stubbornness and talent alone.

He recognizes that he's irritated, but not because of the damn toothpicks she calls knives.

He's irritated because there's clearly more going on than meets the eye. Rey obviously has the right not to open up about whatever's going on. It's her personal business and Kylo has no right to pry. But this growing feeling of concern is beginning to eat at him. It sits in the pit of his stomach, quietly stewing.

Catching public transport. Sad uniform. Scarfing down food like she never gets to eat.

Something isn't right.

Kylo may or may not have peaked out of the kitchen office to make sure Rey actually ate the rest of her Asian fusion abomination.

Her _delicious_ Asian fusion abomination.

As much as it bothered him to admit, Kylo had never tasted anything so amazing before. The sauce was tangy, notes of lime coming to the forefront without being overpowering. The mini pita shells she'd used had been warmed on the skillet, offering a lovely crunchy texture to offset the softness of the pad Thai. Kylo was pretty sure he would have finished the whole damn thing, but then he heard Rey's stomach grumble.

He couldn't quite understand the warmth that bloomed in his chest to see her so fully enjoying her meal. She looked so happy.

It was a little heartbreaking.

His phone _dings_ again and he knows he can't get away with hiding anymore. There are five new messages waiting for him, all from the same sender.

_[Snoke]: How are things going with the new menu, my boy?_

_[Snoke]: I hope your new hire is helping to relieve some of your responsibilities._

_[Snoke]: I expect great things. Winning another Michelin will be a feather in The First Order's cap._

_[Snoke]: Slow to respond today, eh? I hope you're managing._

_[Snoke]: You're busy. I understand. Reply when you can._

Kylo drags a hand over his face.

_Fuck._

He's been putting off coming up with a new menu for Snoke for months now, and he doesn't know how much longer his excuses will hold up. At first, Kylo had argued that the lack of a sous chef placed too much work on his shoulders to fully concentrate on making new recipes. Naturally, Snoke had Kylo quickly hire a replacement. Now his excuse is that he's still busy training his sous, so he doesn't have time.

Allegedly.

He just doesn't want to admit that he's in a slump. He has been for a very long time, and he's just barely pulling things together to give the impression that nothing's wrong.

Nobody knows that he's losing it, his passion for food. He just...

He just doesn't care as much as he used to. All he cared about was earning his first Michelin.

Now he has seven.

Earning another hardly carries the same motivation as it once did. If anything, Snoke's more eager to win the damn thing because it means he can justify another menu price hike. Snoke owns The First Order, just as much as he owns Kylo, and Snoke takes every opportunity to remind him.

_I expect great things. I'm the one who saved you. You owe all of this -your career, your fame, your restaurant- to me._

Kylo puts his phone away.

* * *

Dinner service is busy, but it's not catastrophically unmanageable.

He holds back tonight, curious to see Rey in action. She's not as hesitant as the day before, and she already knows everybody else by name. It's clear within thirty seconds of observation that she's a people person. Always smiling, always complimenting, always supportive. When she turns to set the dishes for table 10 on the line, Kylo suddenly remembers something.

A girl with brown hair. A sweet smile. The Ahch-To school crest stitched onto the front pocket of her uniform. Brimming with life and possibility. He can't recall the finer details of her face, which he supposes makes sense. He graduated from Ahch-To ten years ago. A lot has happened since then.

 _Good job, Ben_.

He blinks and finds Rey peering up at him. "What?" he asks.

"I said, can you please move over? I'm trying to get to the parsley."

"Oh."

Kylo moves to the side so that Rey can step forward and get to the garnish. It's a huge kitchen, but she stands not two inches away. She's close enough that he can admire her freckles. They're actually kind of cute.

_Wait, what?_

"Ah, shoot," Rose grumbles under her breath. "Can somebody please grab the biscotti from the fridge? I left it soaking in coffee for the tiramisu, and my hands are kind of full right now."

Kylo almost scolds Rose for being so careless out of her pure habit, but before he can even open his mouth to get a word out, Rey raises her hand with a chipper smile.

"I'll get it for you," she offers, moving toward the walk-in with purpose.

He resumes work, calling out the next order that prints off the machine. They're working at a good pace, fast enough to keep things from piling up, but not so fast that his chefs will burn out before the rush is over. Kylo tries to concentrate on the final checks for table 32, but his thoughts are hazy. It's just all so...

Repetitive.

Day in and day out. Opening the restaurant, closing the restaurant. The same food, the same people, the same routine.

It's no wonder he's in a slump. His mind is numb to the process. Running The First Order just isn't as thrilling of a challenge anymore, and Snoke's demands for a new lineup only compounds his disinterest.

_Maybe I can try deconstructed recipes. No, that's been done a thousand times before._

He's pulled from his thoughts when he hears a woman yelp in surprise. The sound of something crashing loudly sends his pulse racing.

 _Rey_.

"Out of my way," he snaps, rushing toward the walk-in where the commotion originated.

Kylo pulls open the door and freezes.

Rey's uniform is drenched, stained brown with cold coffee. It drips and pools onto the tile floor, bits of biscotti scattered about. Hux is here, too, apologizing profusely.

"I'm so sorry," he repeats again and again. "I didn't mean-"

Kylo pushes Hux forcefully to the side, furious. "What the fuck is going on here?"

Rey shakes her head. "It was an accident," she says, voice quivering from the shock -and likely from the chill. "I wasn't looking where I was going. I thought there'd be room."

"No, it was my fault," Hux mumbles quickly. "I should have just waited."

Kylo clenches his jaw when he sees Rey shiver. The fabric of her jacket is so thin that it's now see-through. He can make out the line of her bra strap, as well the points of her breasts. Rey crosses her arms over herself, her cheeks and the tips of her ears pink with embarrassment. Kylo averts his eyes, common decency kicking in.

"Hux, you stupid fucking-"

"It's fine," Rey interrupts, placing a hand on his forearm. "Please, it's not a big deal."

"But you're-"

"Please." Rey swallows, casting her gaze to the floor.

Her discomfort is contagious. Kylo can feel the muscles in the back of his neck straining. He glares at Hux. "Clean this up," he orders sharply.

Hux nods. "Right away, chef. I'm so sorry, Rey."

Rey forces a smile and Kylo has to fight against telling her not to do that. She isn't obligated to be polite in this situation. She should be angry. Lord knows Kylo would be if he were in her coffee-logged shoes.

"It's all right, Hux," she says softly. "Just be careful you don't slip in the mess."

"Sorry," Hux mutters one last time.

Except he doesn't _look_ sorry, which just pisses Kylo off more.

"Come on," Kylo grumbles to her, guiding her out of the walk-in fridge.

He takes Rey around the perimeter of the busy kitchen -not that all of the other chefs aren't watching her with concern- and leads her to the staff room. There's a small men and women's changing room just off to the side.

"Take your time cleaning up," he says. "There's no rush."

"We're in the middle of dinner service," she argues.

"I've got it covered."

"I'll just run this under the hand dryer. I'll be out in a few."

Kylo bites down on his tongue. He knows that isn't going to work, but says nothing. All he can do is watch as Rey hurriedly retreats into the women's bathroom and shuts the door behind her.

He goes back to the kitchen in a significantly sour mood. The other chefs all stare at him, as if waiting for an explanation. He gives none. Instead, he shouts, "What the fuck are you all standing around for? Get back to work." He beckons Rose over with a curl of his finger. "Tico. Come here."

Rose wipes her hand on her apron and scurries over. "Yes, chef?"

"Go to the office. There's a bag on my desk. Give it to Rey and tell her to change."

"Yes, chef."

"Oh, and tell her not to worry about the cost. I'll take care of it."

Rose gives a small smile. "That's really sweet of you, chef."

Kylo stands a little straighter. He scoffs. "It'd be an inconvenience if she wears wet clothes all night and catches a cold."

Rose squints, nodding slowly. "Right. Of course."

"Don't make me tell you again, Tico."

She walks away. "Alright, alright. I'm going."

Kylo has no other choice but to get back to work while he waits for his sous chef to return. These orders aren't going to fulfill themselves, after all. He quickly falls back into the rhythm of things, talking loud and fast to make up for lost time.

As he sends out dish after dish, his mind wanders. Something doesn't sit quite right. The look on Hux's face...

There's actually a lot of room in the walk-in. It's one of the largest walk-in fridges that an upscale restaurant can buy. Kylo could cram his entire staff inside -not that he actually would- and there'd still be plenty of elbow room. So he doesn't believe for a fucking second that this _accident_ couldn't have been avoided.

A few minutes later, Rey comes back. She delicately tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. She smells of coffee. Not that Kylo thinks that's a bad thing.

What he finds the most striking is how good she looks in black.

 _Really_ good.

It's a perfect fit -much to his relief- and far more flattering than her previous jacket, which was clearly two sizes to large for her small frame. She looks elegant and professional, where before she looked inexperienced and barely keeping things together. Her hazel eyes look that much brighter in contrast, almost dazzling.

"The darker color suits you," he says before he has the chance to think against it.

Rey laughs politely, her cheeks turning an even richer shade of pink. It's not a real laugh, he knows. Just one to ease her nervousness. "I don't know if that's true, but thanks. I'll, um... I promise to pay you back."

"Don't bother."

"I can't accept-"

"I'll write it off as a business expense."

"But-"

He turns to shout over his shoulder. "I need the appetizers for table 4! Dameron, where's the fillet mignon?"

"Twenty seconds out, chef," Poe calls.

Rey hasn't moved an inch, prompting him to say, "Don't you have work to do?"

She nods, quietly getting back to it.

Kylo grins to himself when he catches Rey briefly admiring her blurry reflection against one of the large stainless steel pots at the entremetier's station.

* * *

He's thankful when service is over. They had a good night. They all made plenty in tips, closing duties were taken care of quickly, and they were out and headed home in under twenty minutes.

Finn, Poe, and Rose leave with Rey as one big group. Kylo is the last one out, locking the door behind him.

Rose slings an arm over Rey's shoulder. "Feel like joining us for drinks tonight?"

Poe smiles. "I scored some cheap beer. You a Jeopardy fan?"

"I am," Rey replies with a wry smile.

"Then you should join us at my place," Finn says cheerfully. "Nothing beats a long day at work like getting buzzed and yelling at a TV screen."

"That sounds like fun, but I'm still all gross and sticky. I should probably shower and change."

"Then how about we go to your place?" Rose suggests. "Come on. We really want to hang with you."

"Yeah," Poe says with a nod. "You seem like a cool kid."

Rey laughs. "Do I?"

"Don't make him give you the puppy eyes," Finn warns. "You'll be a guaranteed goner."

"Fine," she relents. "I know I stink, but do you think you could give me a ride? I'll give you directions as we go."

Rose beams. "Oh, yay!"

Rey turns to Kylo, who's fishing for pockets for his car keys. "Would you like to come?"

The invitation comes as a surprise to him because he _never_ gets invited to these sorts of things. Kylo's sure he looks stupid, mouth hung open slightly and caught off-guard. His first instinct is to decline. He hates unnecessary social gatherings. They've all had a long day and he just wants to go home.

But a smaller, quieter voice in the back of his head wants to say yes. It could turn out to be fun. Mildly amusing, at best.

Then he sees how uncomfortable Finn, Poe, and Rose all are. Kylo's sure that hanging out with their boss after an eight hour shift is the last thing they want.

Luckily, his phone _dings_ again, giving him an out from responding right away. It's a text message. Much to his relief, not from Snoke.

_[Bazine]: You up?_

He texts a quick response and then shoves his phone back in his pocket. "Busy," he says before leaving for his car.

He pretends not to notice how relieved they appear. He also pretends not to notice how Rey is the only one who seems disappointed.

Kylo gets in his car and drives away, but doesn't head home.

* * *

He shows up at Bazine's apartment not five blocks away. There's no passion in their kiss at the doorway when she lets him in. It's just how they say hello without having to worry about needless small talk. Bazine is another head chef -working at some little Spanish place called The Cantina- so she's usually as tired as he is. It's perfunctory at this point, just the way they like it.

Their arrangement is simple.

She texts, he comes over, they fuck, they both get what they want, he leaves.

Rinse, recycle, repeat.

And it works for them. They're both too busy to date, but there's no denying that they still have physical needs. Kylo's never been keen on dating. Not when The First Order takes up all his time and dedication. Bazine feels similarly.

There's also the fact that Kylo's familiar enough with her that he doesn't mind her touch. Not that she gets the chance to do it often. This isn't a touchy-feely sort of deal.

They're both undressed by the time they get to her bedroom. Kylo's so familiar with her apartment that he can navigate expertly in the dark. She has a nice place, but the bedroom is really the only place he's bothered getting to know. Just like at work, everything has its place.

Condoms are in the left side drawer of the nightstand. Bathroom's across the hall. The apartment door is past the living room where it never seems to hit him on the way out.

There's no denying that Bazine is a beautiful woman. Sharp cheekbones, pointed chin, strong brows. It's just a shame that she's too damn loud for Kylo's liking.

He fucks her against the mattress, each thrust hard and practiced. He knows that she likes it rough. She knows that he prefers her on her hands and knees so he can pound her from behind. There are no surprises, as well as no need for exploration. Kylo can get her to cum in under five minutes because that's just how routine this is.

"Oh, fuck," she groans loudly, gripping at the sheets. "Yes! Right there! That's right, give me your fat cock."

He wishes she'd shut up.

Kylo grabs her by the waist and snaps his hips against her, chasing after more of that sweet friction. He can feel her pussy fluttering around his shaft, squeezing him tighter. She's close.

He isn't.

He's just not into it today. Much like everything else, this all feels so grey.

Kylo closes his eyes and blocks out Bazine's obnoxiously loud screams of pleasure. Sometimes he wonders if she's faking it. That, or she's dead set on pissing off the neighbors. He tries to concentrate, eagerly seeking release.

He imagines Bazine's voice softer, sweeter. Maybe even with the hint of an accent.

He pictures a woman, deconstructed. A wisp of light brown hair. Full lips.

Defiantly beautiful hazel eyes.

Kylo cums hard, bright heat exploding from his core. His whole body shudders and ecstasy ripples through him, the tension in his muscles melting away in an instant. He remains there, breathing hard. Kylo's not quite mortified, but he's certainly stunned.

_Where the hell did that come from?_

"Wow," Bazine says with a content sigh. "What got you going there, tiger?"

Kylo doesn't answer. He gets dressed and dips down to kiss Bazine on the cheek before he goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you interested, [this is what Rey's knife set looks like](https://i.imgur.com/EiQnGu3.png) versus [what Kylo's set looks like.](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b9/cf/ff/b9cfffb3422da3d276ea3d9fe68fd674.jpg)


	6. Cuss Like A Sailor

"Damn, girl. You live like this?"

Rose elbows Poe in the stomach. "What the fuck? Don't say that, you dick."

He chuckles good-naturedly. "I was only joking. Trust me, my place is in rougher shape."

Rey smiles, though there's a tingle of bashful shame coloring her cheeks. She knows her apartment has seen better days, but she counts her blessings that she did the dishes and took out the trash earlier that morning. It's not filthy, just a bit neglected. Like an abandoned home in the middle of nowhere.

"Don't worry," she says lightly. "I'll get him back for it later. Please make yourselves comfortable. I'll hop in the shower and be out in a second."

"I'll order Chinese," Finn says. "Or should we just get KFC?"

"But I want nachos!" Rose protests.

"Get all three," Poe insists. "Beer and chicken wings is divine. And the more we order, the more we might actually get to eat before Rose scarfs it all down."

Rose elbows Poe in the stomach again. "Shut up."

Rey holds back a laugh as she ventures down the hall, making a pitstop to her room. They're four highly trained chefs arguing about what kind of fast-food they want to eat. She doesn't know why she feels like she's committing a cardinal sin, but fuck it. A little chow mien, chicken wings, and fully loaded nachos to share doesn't sound half bad. Rey's in definite need of comfort food.

She deposits her tips for the night. Her total is officially below five grand. It should feel like an achievement.

All she feels is tired.

She's so close she can taste it. She tells herself that she just has to put up with things for a little while longer. Once she has the funds...

Rey hides the coffee tin under a pile of old sweaters in the drawer before shutting it securely. She's sure that her new friends aren't going to snoop around and take what isn't theirs, but Rey's learned to be cautious. After the stunt Plutt pulled ten years ago, she can't even bring herself to trust the banks to keep an eye on her money.

She gets in the shower and lets the hot spray trickle over her, washing away the sticky coffee mess she couldn't quite get rid of. Rey shampoos her hair, massaging her scalp with the tips of her fingers.

She knows it wasn't an accident. Rey should have suspected right away that Hux was up to no good when he followed her into the walk-in, she just didn't know what to expect.

Before she even knew what was happening, she tripped over his extended foot, stumbled, and dropped the bin on herself. She didn't even remember screaming in shock.

And then Kylo was there in the blink of an eye. At first, Rey thought he was going to berate her for being careless. Instead, he put distance between her and Hux, standing in front of her like a shield. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt more protected. She could sense his rage in his stance, in the way his fists were clenched. Rey was fairly certain that Kylo was about ready to choke Hux to death.

Rey decides not to dwell on it. It's over now. If Hux tries a stunt like that again, she'll deal with it appropriately.

She gets out of the shower, dries off, and puts on a fresh set of sweatpants and her old Jedi Knights t-shirt she bought years ago at one of their concerts. It was a simpler time, back when she was still full of hope and had a bright future.

_Before my parents..._

"Rey!" Finn shouts from the living room. "Show's starting!"

"Coming!" she calls back.

Rose scooches over on the couch to make room for her while Poe hands her a can of beer. Rey normally doesn't drink -mostly because she can't afford to- but she takes it and cracks it open. Finn and Poe sit together on the floor in front of the coffee table. The small TV -she got it for cheap at the local pawn shop- casts an array of light across their faces, the familiar blue of the Jeopardy title card filling the dimly lit living room.

Finn laughs, pointing at the screen. "Yo. Doesn't that contestant look _exactly_ like Phasma?"

Poe squints. "The one on the end? Nah, I don't think so."

"Who's Phasma?" Rey asks.

"She used to work with us," Rose explains. "She was our old sous chef. Total badass. The one before Mitaka."

"Mitaka?"

"He's the one you replaced."

"Oh. Did she..."

"She quit," says Finn, leaning back to rest against Rose's knees.

"In the most spectacular fashion, too," Poe adds with a grin. "You should have seen it, Rey. It was like something out of a movie. A glorious trash fire I couldn't look away from."

"What happened?" she asks.

"Kylo's what happened. Phasma was probably one of the only people not afraid to challenge him. I think they got into an argument about the French onion soup-"

"It was the quiche Lorraine," Finn corrects. He looks off into the distance, clearly haunted. "I'll never forget."

"Sure. The quiche. Anyways, they had a huge fight right in front all of us."

"Should have grabbed some popcorn," Rose says with a chuckle. "It was glorious."

"They really got into it," continues Poe. "They were so loud, some of the patrons out front actually called the cops."

Rey swallows. "Gosh, that's awful."

"No, it was spectacular," Poe says, dramatically waving his hands in the air. "Phasma gave him a piece of her mind. Called him a prick to his face. ' _An unfeeling, pretentious asshole whose food is unoriginal and overpriced._ ' I couldn't have said it better myself."

Rey grimaces. "That seems... harsh."

Finn shakes his head. "You're sweet, Rey, but you don't need to defend the second coming of the devil."

Poe and Rose laugh, like it's an inside joke. It probably is. Rey doesn't think it's particularly funny, but only because she knows.

 _He wasn't always like this_.

They don't dwell on the subject for much longer because the gameshow starts. Finn, Poe, and Rose waste no time yelling answers at the screen. Rey joins them, chiming in only when she knows she has the right answer. Finn makes wild guesses and gets lucky half the time. Poe answers every single time, but he's rarely right. Rose thinks aloud before answering, or outright admits that she doesn't know.

It's actually a lot of fun. Rey can't remember the last time she hung out for the sake of hanging out. It's surprisingly easy to be around them.

The first commercial break rolls around, just in time for the food to arrival. Finn gives Poe a nudge with his foot to go get it. Poe eventually returns with three separate bags crammed full of greasy fast food.

Rey is ravenous.

They talk while they eat, occasionally making fun of the over-the-top gum commercial that plays twice in a row. Why does an ad for chewing gum need to be so damn cinematic?

"So," Rose says, practically slurping the meat clean off her hot wing. "Where did you go to culinary school, Rey?"

"Ahch-To," Rey answers stiffly, deliberately stuffing her mouth full of chow mien so that she doesn't have to elaborate.

"Just like our supreme leader, huh?" Poe chimes. "Glad you didn't come out of there like a tyrant, too."

"What about you guys?" Rey asks, hoping to take the spotlight off of her.

"Finn and I went studied at the Naboo Institute," Poe says. "We were in the same class. Wound up landing our jobs at The First Order at the exact same time."

"And you?" Rey asks, looking to Rose.

"I studied at Hays Minor Polytechnic with my sister, Paige. She used to work at The First Order, too."

"Where's she at now?"

Rose beams. "In Paris. She's opening up her own restaurant come springtime."

Rey's eyes widen. "That's amazing!"

"Working at The First Order does that for you," Finn mentions, finishing off his first can of beer. "Like it or not, having The First Order on your resumé can open a lot of doors."

"It's the only reason I'm still here," Poe admits, scoffing. "Just have to put up with Kylo's shit for a year and then I'm packing up and working with someone who actually appreciates me."

"Don't forget to take me with you," Finn reminds.

Poe claps him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I wouldn't leave you behind to rot there."

"What about you?" Rose asks Rey. "Want to open your own place one day? I can't imagine you want to be a sous chef forever. Not for him, at least."

Rey shrugs. "I don't know. I haven't really thought about it much."

It's the truth. Right now, she only has a singular priority, one that involves an intense amount of savings before she can take the next step. Working at The First Order is just a means to an end. She can't see any further into the future, so Rey doesn't bother thinking about it.

The gameshow comes back onto the screen. The host speaks clearly, reading off of his prompt card. "This private investigator saw the safe return of actor Lando Calrission in 2019."

Before the contestants even get the chance to press their buzzers, Rey says, "Maz Kanata."

"Who is Maz Kanata?" the Phasma lookalike asks.

"That's correct."

Finn whistles. "Wow. How'd you know that?"

"I don't even know who that is," Poe admits.

"That's because you're dumb," Rose teases.

Rey shrugs her shoulders, sinking into the cushions behind her. "I'm just good at trivia," she lies.

"If that's the case, you should join us for trivia night at the pub next weekend," Finn says. "You could help us break our losing streak."

Rey smiles. "Sure. Why not?"

They return to their food, eating and chatting and yelling at one of the contestants when they get an obvious answer wrong. For a moment, Rey forgets about everything else. Tonight, she allows herself to forget all about the private investigator's fees she's slowly been collecting.

* * *

Rey's flustered.

She's at work, frantically searching through her assigned locker in the staff room. She's taken everything out and put everything back in twice, but she can't find her knife roll anywhere. This isn't an ideal start to her day. Rey won't be able to rest until she finds them.

"Fucking goddamn tossing asshat cunt," she grumbles under her breath.

"Oh, wow. I don't know how I understood that."

Rey whips around and finds Kylo leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He once again looks stupidly well-rested. Rey doesn't understand how it's possible. After her friends left last night, she got a solid eight hours and she _still_ needs at least two more naps to feel even remotely okay. 

It's the first time Rey really takes him in. Kylo looks as severe as he always does, dressed in all black. It makes him look strong. Regal. Intimidating as fuck.

It's a little sexy.

_No. Bad Rey. Stop that shit right now._

Kylo also kind of looks pissed. Or, at the very least, perturbed at the sight of her. She wonders if she's done something wrong.

Then again, this is _Kylo_. She's pretty sure the frown he wears is permanent.

It's a lot for her to process. She sucks in a sharp breath when she realizes she's been staring for a little too long. "Huh? Oh, sorry. How much of that did you hear?"

"All of it," he responds dryly. "My poor virgin ears."

"Did you just make a joke? I didn't think that was possible."

"I also didn't think it was possible for you to swear like that."

Rey gestures to her face with an open palm. "I'll have you know I may look like an angel, but I cuss like a sailor."

"Duly noted."

"And, to be fair, you say far worse things more frequently."

"Touché." Kylo's eyes drag over her before moving to her locker. "What are you doing?"

"I can't find my knife roll. I remember putting them here overnight. Maybe I brought them home with me?" She chews on the inside of her cheek. "But then I would have... I'm losing my mind, sorry. I'll put this all away and be right there. I'm sure I'll figure it out."

He's as still as a statue and she isn't sure why. His presence is hard to ignore.

Just like how it's hard to ignore how heavy his gaze is upon her skin. There's something there, just past the dark of his eyes, but it's fleeting. Rey can't identify it in time.

"Grab your jacket," he finally says, voice firm, but soft. Softer than she's ever heard him speak.

A shiver slithers its way down her spine.

She wants to hear him say it again.

"Grab my jacket? Why?"

"Just do it. Don't keep me waiting."

She isn't sure why listening to his voice makes her face so warm. Rey does as she's asked, grabbing her jacket and putting it on before following him. She notes the width of his back. For a second, she wants to reach out, fingers curious to know what he feels like.

Rey thinks against it, instead bringing her cold palm to her cheek in an effort to cool down.


	7. Tiger

It bothers Kylo just how much she looks like a child in a candy shop. Except she's not a child and there's no candy in sight.

The awestruck joy on her face is no lie, though. Her smile makes his chest tight.

He can't say that he minds.

"Are you sure?" she asks for the umpteenth time.

"I'm sure."

"But they're so much."

"I told you. Business expense."

"Kylo-"

"You're no good to me if you can't do your job properly," he says, sounding as indifferent as he can. "So pick something already. Service starts in half an hour."

Rey grins. He thinks she can see straight through him. Probably not, but it certainly feels that way.

She walks up to one of the many glass display cabinets, keeping her hands in her pockets like she's afraid she'll leave smudges. Kylo finds it adorable. Not that he'd ever admit that aloud.

Steadfast is one of the fancier specialty shops in the city, carrying a wide range of brands to suit all sorts of chefs and their handling styles. Famous chefs from around the world have, at some point, graced the same tile floors. Only the finest can be found here, and Kylo fully intends to make sure Rey selects something complimentary to her talent.

Enric Pryde, the owner of Steadfast, reminds Kylo of a crypt keeper. Hollow cheeks. Pale white skin. Sunken eyes and a scowl that scares him a little, and it takes _a lot_ to scare a man like Kylo Ren.

Pryde smiles, but his impatience is made obvious in the strain of his voice. "See anything you like, dear?"

"Show her the Miyabi collection," Kylo says.

Rey gawks at the knives Pryde sets out for her. There's one of everything. A chef's knife, a prep, a utility, a nakiri, a santoku, one for paring, one for boning, and one for bread. There's also a sharpening steel to round it all off. They're all very beautiful, made with a flowering Damascus finish and gorgeous black ash wood handles. Kylo has half a mind to buy a set for himself. The only reason he doesn't is because his collection at home is massive enough as it is.

He watches as her fingers curls around the handle of the chef's knife. He's mesmerized by the smile that stretches across her lips. The blade is sleek, perfect in her expert hold.

A flash of something old passes through his mind. Kylo can picture someone before him. A young woman in an Ahch-To uniform, diligently practicing her cuts at a work station.

_What do you think of this, Ben?_

Maybe it's a memory. Maybe a dream. Either way, the details are missing. The woman's words linger, but not the sound of her voice.

He snaps back to reality and regards Rey slowly. "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," she whispers. Her excitement is electric, practically crackling against his own skin.

It's all he needs to hear.

Kylo turns to Pryde and nods. "Pack it up."

"Which one, sir?"

"All of it."

Rey's eyes widen in horror. "No."

"This isn't up for debate."

"Kylo, this one alone is three hundred dollars."

"I'm well aware of tha-"

He stops short when he notices her eyes glossing over, red at the edges from the threat of tears. His heart sinks.

_What the fuck did I do?_

"What's wrong?" he asks, stepping forward. "Rey?"

Rey shakes her head. "Sorry. I'll pay you back."

"I already said you don't-"

"This is just overwhelming, okay? I'm not used to-" Rey presses her lips into a thin line, swallowing hard. She wipes at her eyes, refusing to let any traitorous tears fall.

"What?" Kylo presses.

"People don't do stuff like this for me. Ever. So, it's... It's just a lot."

Something akin to anger stirs in the pit of his stomach. "Ever? What? Have your parents never given you a gift before?"

Rey pales and he knows immediately that he's fucked up.

_Touchy subject. Got it._

He scratches at the back of his neck, straining to find the right thing to say. "Look, you need these."

"I know, I just... I feel guilty."

"There isn't any need to be."

"That doesn't change the fact that I _do_."

Kylo sighs. It wasn't his intention to upset her. "What can I do to make this easier on you?"

"Let me pay you back."

He shakes his head. She's made it more than clear that she's in no position to take on a financial burden like this. "Absolutely not."

"I can... I can work for it."

"Last I checked, you're already one of my employees."

Kylo's phone buzzes in his pocket. He takes a quick glance and sees that it's Snoke.

_[Snoke]: Any updates, my boy? I hope you're not working too hard._

He can already feel a tension headache coming on. Can he not go one day without Snoke checking in on him? That's something he's never appreciated about restaurant owners who aren't chefs themselves. They treat it like a business. But cooking takes time and planning, trial and error. If Kylo could snap his fingers and have an entirely new menu in an instant, he would.

It's just that he's lacking inspiration. His senses have been dulled to the point where new ideas don't come to him as easily anymore. What he truly needs is a fresh perspective on things to get him started.

An idea suddenly pops into Kylo's head. "Maybe there is something," he mumbles.

"What is it?"

"I have a project. I'm trying to come up with a new menu and I'm... I'm stuck. So, let's make a deal. If you help me-"

"Yes," she answers immediately. "Absolutely, yes. It's the least I can do."

Kylo nods in approval. "Excellent. We'll start tomorrow. Come in early like you usually do."

"Sure."

His eyes fall to her lips and he swears it's an accident. Or perhaps not. She's only a foot away. All he'd have to do is dip down to kiss her.

 _No. Not a good_ _idea._

Rey's the first to turn. "I'll, um... I'll be right back. Just need to blow my nose." She leaves promptly afterwards, leaving Kylo there in stunned silence.

Pryde coughs. "Not where I thought that was going to go," he mutters mostly to himself, but Kylo's hearing is as sharp as a tack. Kylo glares at the shop owner. Luckily, Pryde is smart enough to know when to shut the hell up.

* * *

"Woah," Rose gasps. "These are beautiful, Rey."

"Where'd you get them?" Finn asks, gathering in close.

"Oh, um... They were a gift," Rey says. It's not technically a lie.

"Damn," Poe says. "Whoever gave them to you has great taste."

There's a bit of a crowd around her. The other chefs are all amazed at Rey's new tools. Kylo didn't expect it to be such a massive distraction. It makes sense, though. They're a work of art in her hands. She was already able to create delicious meals with her old blades holding her back. Now there's nothing in her way to stop her from creating.

Kylo spots Hux lurking in his periphery. He seems to be the only one disinterested. In fact, he seems peeved for some reason.

Kylo's not an idiot. He has his suspicions. Being passed over for a promotion, then the incident yesterday with the walk-in, and now Rey's missing things. Surely Hux knows better than to be this obvious. But without proof, there's nothing Kylo can do.

Regardless, Kylo silently decides to be wary.

He clears his throat. "This isn't a museum," he snaps, though there's half the usual heat in his words. "Hang out on your own time. I don't pay you all to stand around."

"Yes, chef," comes the chorus. Chefs scurry away to their stations just as the first chit of the night prints. It's a small order. Kylo calls for two medium-rare steaks with a side of potatoes au gratin, one escargot appetizer, one bowl of French onion soup, and a side caesar salad with no bacon croutons. It's a nice, simple start to the night.

In the meantime, he gets to work, occasionally distracted at the thought of how nice Rey looks working along side him at the front of the line.

* * *

Service wraps up smoothly and they're all out the door fifteen minutes after close. It's a new record. Save for the one asshole who returned their dish only after they'd eaten half -Kylo almost went out front to yell at the sorry bastard- tonight was mostly uneventful.

Finn, Poe, and Rose leave with Rey ahead of him, as always. Kylo locks the door behind him, fully prepared to head straight for his car. For the first time in forever, he's actually starting to think up of possible recipes to try. He's sure his sudden burst of motivation has something to do with the fact that he'll now have Rey to hold him accountable.

He can't very well have nothing prepared for her tomorrow, now can he?

"Hey there, tiger."

Kylo hates being caught off-guard like this. He spins around, more confused than anything. "Baz?"

The woman saunters over, the sharp click of her stiletto heels echoing against the cement. She's dressed up this evening, hair pulled back into a sleek high ponytail. She boasts a full face of makeup, complete with smoky eyes and dark black lipstick. Bazine clearly wasn't at work today, nor does she look like she's on her way back home. She moves in like she wants a kiss, but Kylo takes a huge step out of the way.

Public displays of affection? No.

In front of his employees? Fuck no.

In front of Rey?

 _Unthinkable_.

"What are you doing here?" he asks curtly, more than aware of everybody's eyes on him and -to them- this mystery woman. Kylo's made a point of never even mentioning his private life.

It's just his luck that his private life would show up at his front door.

Bazine, unfazed, simply shrugs. "Me and a few of my friends want to check out the new club that opened downtown. I was in the area and thought I'd stop by to invite you."

"Not interested. Goodnight."

She puts a hand on his shoulder, getting much to familiar for his liking. This wasn't apart of their arrangement. No dates. No 'just hanging out as friends.' This was supposed to be a no-strings-attached situation.

"Um, hi?"

Kylo sees Rey take a step forward, smiling sweetly. Somewhere deep down, there's a part of him that kind of wants to shrivel up into an angry little ball.

Bazine, cool and collected, grins. "Hello. Who might you be? Kylo never talks about his colleagues."

"Employees," he corrects coldly.

"I'm Rey. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Bazine," she says with a wink. "Lovely to meet you."

"What's this about a new club?" Poe chimes in.

Scratch that. Kylo just wants to shrivel up and die.

"Nothing," he snaps. "She was just leaving."

Bazine clicks her tongue. "Someone's cranky. If you want to be a party pooper, fine. I'll text you later, okay?"

Just as abruptly as she came, Bazine walks away with a level of pep in her step that pisses Kylo off to no end. He's lost count of how many lines she just trampled over.

_Totally unacceptable._

Rey stares at him. Kylo doesn't understand why he's so unnerved.

"Um, goodnight," she says softly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Right. Until then."

"Who was the babe?" Rose asks in a hushed tone as the group walks away.

Kylo doesn't stick around. He's already formulating a strongly worded text to Bazine never to do that again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡 ǝuᴉzɐq


	8. **UPDATE**

I will be taking some time to reflect. It was not my intention to be cruel or irresponsible. The tags have been updated. I hope they suffice. Please let me know what I can do to improve.

Additionally, being told "fuck you" by an anonymous user feels great. At the time I was not aware about the process of "orphaning" works. I have the downloaded copies for my own records and would have been more than happy to share, though I don't owe anybody anything since they're my works that I write for free and for my entertainment. Brandon_McAuley has been inactive for a couple of years now and I simply wished to grow. I'm allowed to reinvent and pursue new interests. I wasn't aware I had to keep my name and remain wholly dedicated to one fandom.

Also, I deleted the fics over a year and a half ago, so I don’t understand how they could have kept you going during this pandemic when they weren’t available anymore.

Regardless, my sincerest condolences.

I write this for free and in my spare time. Critiquing the work is fine, but to be attacked for a genuine mistake like this hurts. I was really excited to get these chapters out so readers could see how things unfold. Now I feel bad for even voicing my feelings because now I’m worried I’m being over sensitive. Ah look, you gave it anxiety.


	9. Roquefort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank every single one of you that came to my defense and offered up such wonderful words of encouragement. That user's unnecessarily harsh stance took me by surprise, so I greatly appreciate your understanding in me taking a quick break. Please know that I've read and every single one of your comments and will look back on all of them very fondly. I will do my absolute best to tag appropriately from here on out, and if there are any tags you feel should be there that I haven't thought to add, please do let me know! 
> 
> I'm not sure if I should delete the contents of chapter 8 because I don't want to lose all of your comments. I might save them all in a separate document, scrap the chapter, and replace it with this one. I don't want what happened to detract from the story's format, so please understand that if it does get deleted, I have made an effort to read everything you guys have commented prior to doing so.
> 
> I really adore this story, and it warms my heart to see that many of you feel the same way, too! I will continue to work hard to deliver a story that's authentic to the plot that I want to follow and the characterization that I want to bring to life. You're all right. I'm the writer, this is my story, and I won't bend to the demands of the petty and vitriolic few. Your encouragement and support have honestly made me feel so loved, and I want to return the feeling by continuing to produce this work and see it to the end.
> 
> That being said, here's another chapter. Considered it a holiday gift. I promise things are going to get steamy very soon.
> 
> Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals! ;)
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Your girlfriend seems nice."

Rey mentally kicks herself. She's not sure what else to say.

She thought about Bazine all night -as weird as that sounds- in awe of the easy confidence the latter radiated. Rey thought the woman had walked straight off the runway or off the cover of a fashion magazine. There was a graceful poise to the way she walked, a hypnotic sway to her hips and a worldly sophistication in the way she spoke. It makes sense that a man like Kylo would have a woman like that on his arm.

"She's not my girlfriend."

Rey perks up. "Oh? A friend, then?"

Kylo looks up from his work. There are several ingredients laid out in front of him on the prep table. He's pulled up a stool to sit. Like this, they come up to the same height. Rey's amazed to finally see him at eye-level. Being able to see the top of his head shouldn't be as amusing an experience as it is.

Rey really likes his hair. Always has. She has to stop herself from reaching out, combing her fingers through it. She imagines it must be incredibly soft.

Instead of answering, he says, "Try this." He quickly brings a spoonful of something up to her lips.

Rey opens her mouth instinctively, only realizing afterwards how odd it is to have the great Chef Kylo Ren feeding her so nonchalantly. Quite literally by his hand, too. Kylo's gaze locks with hers, patiently awaiting a verdict. The intensity of his eyes makes her heart skip a beat.

Flavors wash over her tongue. She closes her eyes and concentrates. It's a creamy lobster mashed potatoes, but it's so much more than that. She can taste the sweet meat of the shellfish, the salinity of the butter, the earthiness of finely chopped chives. The potatoes are soft, lighter than air, almost like they've been whipped for hours. Rey determines that he's used brie instead of cheddar, giving the whole thing a much milder taste.

"What do you think?" he asks. He's quite literally on the edge of his seat.

Rey thinks he looks younger like this, boyish in his curiosity. She feels bad because he's so clearly looking for an honest response, but her opinion isn't exactly flattering. The food is... _underwhelming_. She was expecting fireworks, but only got a few sparks. It's not terrible. It's actually quite nice, but hardly deserving of a place on The First Order's menu.

"It's, um... It's good."

He arches a brow at her.

"It would be better with Roquefort," she says.

Kylo frowns, nose crinkling slightly in contempt. "That'd be too overpowering."

"You want my help, right?"

He nods slowly.

"Then I think you should try a variation with Roquefort. Not a lot. Just to give it a nice tang."

Rey half expects him to ignore her. Much to her surprise, he pulls a pen from the front pocket of his chef jacket and starts writing notes down on a piece of paper next to him.

Rey tries not to stare at the sheer size of his hands. Long fingers, thick knuckles, hard palms. His penmanship is gorgeous, she notices. Cursive letters gliding effortlessly into one another, looping and flowing like a dance. He presses the tip of the pen down hard, though, writing as aggressively as he speaks.

_Yeah, that checks out._

He sets the pen down and hands her the spoon. He points the next dish over. "Okay. Try that one next."

She does so, taking a sample. This time, it's some kind of dessert. Rey's always had a sweet tooth, and it shows. She moans, willingly drowning in the rich cocoa powder, icing sugar, and savoring the sourness of the raspberries baked in.

"Wow, that's good," she mumbles. She helps herself to a larger spoonful and sighs. " _Fuck_. More of where that came from, please."

Kylo chuckles. It's such a wonderful and rare sound. "How would you improve it?"

"Me?"

He nods. "Yes."

"I think it's kind of perfect, to be honest. I'd serve it with a side of vanilla bean ice cream, but that doesn't exactly scream fancy, does it?"

Kylo jots something down regardless. Rey really likes how his fingers look wrapped around his pen.

_Is that a weird thing for me to fixate on?_

She silently enjoys it anyways.

"Are you going after a specific theme?" she asks, licking her spoon clean.

Kylo is most definitely staring. "No, not yet," he answers, voice strained. "I'm just trying to determine my flavor palate, first. I'm hoping the theme comes to me soon, though."

"Is this a total overhaul of the set menu we have now?"

"Yes. Everything from appetizers to bar drinks to desserts. They just need to be new."

"Ah, plenty of room to play, then."

Kylo looks up at her, slightly wide-eyed. "Room to play?"

Rey shifts her weight from foot to foot. "Did I say something wrong?"

He shakes his head. "I just... I've never thought about it that way before."

She shrugs. "I mean, yeah. Coming up with new recipes is always fun, isn't it?"

"Fun?"

"Mm-hmm. Ever heard of it?"

Rey says this like a joke, but Kylo doesn't react in the slightest. In fact, he looks deep in thought. Maybe even troubled. Before she can ask what's bothering him, Kylo stands.

"What did you eat for breakfast this morning?" he asks.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I usually sleep in and miss breakfast entirely, so nothing." 

"Then what did you have for lunch before you got here?"

Rey doesn't know why she feels so exposed. "Nothing. I had to hurry and catch the bus to get here early, so I didn't-"

Kylo walks away before she's finished speaking. At first, Rey's upset. It's rude to leave in the middle of a conversation. But then Kylo returns not one minute later from the walk-in fridge with a few ingredients. He sets everything down and gets to work, first by placing a non-stick skillet on the stove to heat.

"What are you doing?" Rey asks.

"You a pasta fan? Most people are."

"Yes, of course."

"Hm. Good. Sit here and wait."

Rey doesn't argue. She's curious to see him at work. She's admittedly been so busy learning the ropes as his sous chef that she's never taken the opportunity to actually seem him in action. Kylo's always at the front of the line, delegating and organizing. She sits on the stool he once occupied, hands on her lap as she watches him move expertly about the space.

He boils a pot of salted water and cooks spaghetti under a rolling boil. He slices garlic cloves into precise, paper-thin pieces. Next is a generous coat of olive oil, coating the bottom of the skillet until it starts to pop and hiss. In goes the garlic to fry, turning a beautiful golden brown as the air fills with its aromatic scent. Kylo tosses a pinch of red pepper in as well, the sizzling sound music to Rey's ears.

Once the sauce is done, he turns off the heat, drains the cooked pasta -al dente- and adds the spaghetti to the skillet. He tosses it all around with a pair of tongs, making sure to coat every noodle with the light sauce. He plates without too much showmanship -Rey isn't exactly a customer- but Kylo takes great care in drizzling freshly squeezed lemon juice over it all, as well as garnishing with finely chopped parsley.

Rey is completely still, in awe. His timing is perfect. It has to be in order to juggle twenty different steps at once. Practiced and calculated and totally in control. Kylo could cook in his sleep, if he wanted to, and the meal would still come out as amazing as ever.

She could watch him all day.

He sets the plate down in front of Rey and hands her a clean fork from a nearby utensil bin.

"Eat," he says.

"Aren't you going to have some?"

"I'm not the one who didn't have lunch." 

"Th-thank you."

"Make sure to eat before you come into work next time," he says sternly. "I don't need you passing out on me."

Rey smiles. She can tell what Kylo really means, he's just too much of a tough guy to say it aloud.

 _Take care of yourself_.

"Thank you," she says again, softer.

"When you're done, start prep for the fillet mignon special tonight."

"Yes, chef."

She watches as Kylo leaves, disappearing to the kitchen office. She can't stop smiling. Rey takes one bite and she's lost to her senses.

This is the most delicious thing she's ever eaten in her entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty obvious what Kylo's love language is, huh?
> 
> Additionally, the meal Kylo made for Rey is called [_pasta aglio e oilio_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJUiWdM__Qw&ab_channel=BabishCulinaryUniverse).


	10. Seamless Transition

Things at work had been going really smoothly.

So it makes sense that tonight, everything's gone tits up. Kylo isn't surprised. He knows he has the shittiest luck.

The kitchen is slammed. One of the hood fans isn't working, it's torturously hot, dirty dishes are piling up in the pit and not getting washed right away, which means that his staff don't have new, clean plates to use for their own prep or plating. The restaurant itself isn't even that busy. They have no waitlist, nor huge reservations taking up their time. In Kylo's experience, this can only mean one thing.

Someone isn't pulling their weight.

His kitchen is a well-oiled machine. All of his staff may be in charge of their own stations, but they have to move as one. If appetizers aren't sent out fast enough, that means entrées are held back, which means dessert production is paused even longer. It's like a traffic jam. If some asshole decides to slam on the brakes, everyone behind them has to slam on the brakes as well. As head chef, he's the traffic controller and police officer all in one.

It doesn't take him very long to figure out who the fuck is dropping the ball.

"Hux!" he seethes. "Where the fuck are you going?"

"Bathroom break," the redhead says casually, like they aren't in the middle of service and it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Again? That's the fifth time you've left your station."

"Didn't realize I had to ask your permission to piss," Hux snaps, walking away.

"Listen here, you stupid motherfu-"

Kylo cuts himself off and takes a deep breath in through the nose. He wants to lose it. He wants to erupt. Explode. Eviscerate everything standing in his way.

But then he catches a glimpse of Rey out of the corner of his eye, working twice as hard than usual to help her colleagues. Her sleeves are rolled up to just below her elbow. Her hair's pulled back into a bun, the sweat from hard work and concentration making the strands framing her face stick to her skin. If he loses control now, she'll have to work that much harder to make up for the outburst.

_People respond well to positive reinforcement, you know._

Rey's words echo around in his skull. He mentally cringes as he prepares a different approach to running his kitchen.

"Tico," he says.

Rose looks up from her station, wide-eyed and definitely expecting to be reamed out. "Y-yes, chef?"

Kylo pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "Good... Good job on that last order," he says, compliment heavy and unnatural on his tongue. "Ease up on the strawberry topping a little, okay?"

Rose's face turns bright red, mouth dropping open. "Oh, um... Th-thank you so much, chef."

"Dameron, nice work on those steaks. The table gave their compliments. Please focus on the orders for tables 17 and 21 next."

"Sure thing, chef," Poe replies, just as dumbfounded as Rose.

"Zorii, good pace. A little lighter on the dressing."

"Yes, chef."

"Finn, the arrangement on the last one was beautiful. Keep that up."

"Thank you, chef."

"Rey?"

"Yes, chef?"

She's there at his side in an instant. Kylo can tell she's as tired as he is, but he can sense the determined fire within her.

"Can you take over for a few minutes?" he asks, unconsciously dipping in to speak softer. "I'm going to talk to Hux in private. Might be a few. Don't freak out if there's yelling."

"Not a problem," she says, smiling.

_Fuck, she's pretty when she smiles._

Rey wastes no time taking up the reins, calling out the next order that prints out. It's a seamless transition, almost like they've practiced a thousand times, when in reality they've been doing this for less than a week. Kylo isn't at all worried about stepping away. With anyone else, he'd have reservations. Not with her.

He finds Hux in the staff room, sitting at the small break table on his phone. Kylo's blood boils.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he growls. "We need you out there. Why are you fucking off?"

"Would you relax? I'm just taking a fucking break."

"People are working their asses off to make up for your incompetence. Get off your damn phone, or I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" Hux hisses, standing up. "What will you do, hm? Pass me over for yet another promotion?"

"You're a piece of shit, you know that? This is exactly why you didn't get the job."

"You sure about that?"

Kylo scoffs. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Snoke personally tapped me for the position."

"And it was ultimately my decision to follow through or not."

"It makes me wonder why you'd choose that nobody over me."

"What?"

"You heard me. You were supposed to hire from within, Ren. That's what Snoke said. Instead, you hired the first damn person to bat their pretty eyelashes at you."

"Be careful with what you say next."

Hux takes a step forward, deliberately getting up in Kylo's space. He's unafraid.

Mostly just stupid, though.

"What did she do, hm?" Hux asks, voice dripping with venom. "It's pretty obvious she's your favorite. What did she do to earn that honor, I wonder?"

Kylo clenches his jaws so hard that he can hear his molars squeak against each other. "Go home."

"What?"

Kylo stands straight, squaring his shoulders. Hux is actually quite tall, but he doesn't intimidation the same way. The redhead shrinks back, still wearing an expression of indignation.

"Go home," Kylo repeats in a low voice. "Before you say something you'll regret. One step out of line, Hux. One more step out of line and I'll fire you on the spot. I'll have you blacklisted from every restaurant from here to the other coast. I'll make sure you're stuck working at a Denny's for the rest of your miserable little life."

"You can't-"

"Yes, I can. Don't forget who I am. Snoke might have taken you under his wing. He might own this restaurant. But the kitchen is mine, and you're at my mercy. I'm being very generous right now, so I suggest you go home for the night. When you come back tomorrow, I expect you to be on your best behavior. If not, I'll take you out with the trash myself. Do I make myself clear?"

The vein in Hux's temple twitches. "Crystal," he grumbles.

"Get the fuck out of here."

Hux stomps over to his locker to snatch up his things. He slams the door hard enough that it just bounces open again, exposing an old, tattered knife roll at the very bottom. Rey's missing knife set. Kylo doesn't have time to confront Hux about it. The redhead shoves his shoulder against Kylo's -it looks like it hurts him more than the latter- and pisses off for the night.

Kylo bends down to pick up the knife roll. He's enraged on Rey's behalf. He knows he should fire Hux immediately. Theft isn't something Kylo takes lightly. But it's been a long night, Hux is finally gone, and Rey has a fresh set of knives. A part of him is a little grateful that Hux had enough nerve to steal it.

Rey truly deserves the new ones Kylo bought for her.

He'll make good on his promise. One more fuck up and he'll make sure Hux is gone in the blink of an eye.

_Nobody will miss him._

* * *

They get through service, no thanks to Hux. Things actually cleared up really quickly the second he left. Food started moving again, and the work started to flow. Hux leaving was like taking a thorn out of everyone's side. Easier to breathe, easier to function.

Nevertheless, Kylo needs a smoke.

While the rest of the staff finish off their cleaning duties, Kylo takes a long, much-needed drag on his cigarette out back. He knows he should quit. He's been trying to quit for a very long time, in fact. It's just that he hasn't been able to find the motivation to do it. He hasn't had the motivation to do much in general.

It's cold out. The evening air is still. The stars are out, bright and twinkling, the never-ending quiet of the universe weighing down on him. It's calming, he thinks, all that emptiness. It stands in complete contrast to the tumultuous state of his mind.

There's a lot going on in his head. Sometimes it's so loud that he can't distinguish thought from thought.

_Stupid new menu, I don't even want to make it. The First Order needs good reviews. I have to figure out everyone's shifts for next week first._

_Shit, wait. I need to handle the food shipment by Monday or we'll be understocked. Is the cheese in the fridge about to go bad?_

_Speaking of cheese: Roquefort. I don't like Roquefort, but Rey says to try it. Rey likes sweets. Maybe I'll make a mille-feuille for her tomorrow._

_Tomorrow. Hux will be back. Hux is a fucking dick._ _'It makes me wonder why you'd choose that nobody over me.' Fucking asshole._

 _Sh_ _e's not a nobody._ _Not to me._

"Kylo?"

He looks up with a start. "Fuck."

Rey laughs, her smile apologetic. "Sorry. Didn't mean to surprise you."

"Oh, no. It's fine."

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I was calling your name for, like, five minutes."

"Oh. Just spacing out. Don't worry."

Rey steps out to join him. "We're about finished inside. Just need you to close up."

"Sure, I'll be right there," he says, taking another deep drag of his cigarette.

"So, I was thinking..." She speaks gently, an adorable shyness about her. "We're going to trivia night tomorrow. I was wondering if you'd like to come."

This is officially the second time he's been invited to a non-work related event, but it's still as shocking as the first time. "Who's we?" he asks, exhaling.

Rey stifles a cough, clears her throat. "Finn, Poe, Rose, and I. It'll be fun."

"Thanks, but no."

Rey clears her throat again. She's doing her best to be subtle, hiding her mouth behind her hand. This time, Kylo clocks it. He puts out his cigarette without a second thought.

"Why not?" Rey asks.

"I'm their boss. I doubt they'd want to see me during their off hours."

"So? You're _my_ boss and I'd like to see you in my off hours."

"Why?"

Rey smiles. "Well, we're friends, aren't we? That's what friends do. Hang out and stuff."

Warmth blooms in his chest. This is... _new_. He feels stupidly childish in his excitement, but manages to press it down.

"Careful," he says. "I'm starting to get the feeling that you like me."

She laughs, sheepishly glancing down at her shoes. "Shut up. Can you please come to trivia with me?"

Kylo chuckles.

 _Oh no, she's cute_.

"Well, I guess I could-"

"Trivia?" comes a voice from behind them. It's an old, cold voice that freezes Kylo all the way down to the marrow. "That sounds like quite the lovely distraction, my boy."

Kylo turns to see Snoke standing there, one hand balanced on his polished redwood cane. The man is in his late-seventies, but stands upright and with incredible strength. His face is withered with time, wrinkles everywhere, with old sage-like eyes. He's dressed in a bespoke suit worth thousands, as are the diamond cufflinks he has on.

Snoke gives Rey a friendly smile, but Kylo knows the truth.

There's nothing friendly about this man.

"Let's head inside out of this cold, shall we?" Snoke continues, words sickly sweet.

Kylo knows it's not actually an ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone! Please don't hate me for the mini-cliffhanger. I'll be taking a short break for the holidays, but will get back to writing soon. I've got the next five chapter written and lined up (just needs a bit of editing), and I honestly can't wait for you all to see how things unfold. I promise we're getting to the steamier stuff soon!
> 
> Side note, I have nothing against Denny's. They're amazing and I love their food ahahaha
> 
> Please stay safe out there and happy holidays! (~˘▾˘)~ Please leave comments if you like it! I read every single one! <3


	11. Diamond In The Rough

Rey notices two things.

First, Snoke looks like a snake who gave up halfway through the shedding process. No amount of fancy clothes and bejeweled accessories can make up for that.

Second, Kylo is uncharacteristically quiet. There's an edge to him, a tension he carries throughout his body that threatens to snap him at the knees, the elbows, the neck -basically anywhere that could give. As a result, Rey's anxious.

Kylo's nerves are her nerves.

It doesn't take her very long to figure out who Snoke is. Judging by the way Finn, Poe, and Rose all scurried away after seeing him, Rey assumes that this man has authority over them. More so than Kylo, even, which can only mean one thing: she is face-to-face with the owner of The First Order.

Snoke drags a finger over the surface of the nearest prep station, grimacing in dissatisfaction. "It seems you've let things go since I've been abroad, my boy."

Kylo says nothing, keeping his eyes glued to the floor.

"Your name's Rey, is that right, dear?"

She stands a little straighter, unconsciously positioned about a foot behind Kylo. "Yes," she says softly. "That's me. It's very nice to meet you, sir."

Snoke smiles. It sends a chill racing down Rey's spine. "Such a lovely name. It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I must admit that Kylo hasn't said much about you. Such a shame to keep a pretty creature like you to himself, hm?"

Rey shifts her weight from foot to foot. "Oh, that's... That's very nice of you to say, sir."

"It's been a long day," Kylo says to Snoke. "And it's her day off tomorrow. I'm sure Rey would like to get going."

Snoke raises his barely there brows and smirks. "If that's the case, I'm sure I'm not keeping her from anything particularly important. Is that right, dear?"

"Well-"

"I've just gotten off a long flight from Paris and I'm rather famished. Would you mind making me a little something? It'd give me an opportunity to get to know Kylo's sous chef all the better."

Rey notices Kylo clench his fists, but she nods anyway. She gets the feeling that this isn't so much a request as it is a thinly veiled demand. "I'd be happy to," she says. "Do you have any requests?"

Snoke licks his lips, pulling up a nearby stool to sit upon. "I would like a Marseille-style shrimp stew to start, your take on a coq au vin for my main meal, and mousse au chocolat for dessert."

Kylo frowns. "I'll help."

The wrinkly old man raises a stern hand. "That won't be necessary, my boy."

"But that's a lot of work for one-"

"I'm sure our Rey can handle it. I expect nothing less for a sous chef of her caliber." Snoke turns and grins at Rey. "It's not too much for you to handle, is it?"

Rey's heart is in her throat. Her palms are clammy and her breathing's shallow. She doesn't know if this is normal or not. If she declines, how suspicious will that make her look? But if she agrees to cook for him, will a restraunteur like Snoke be able to tell just how inexperienced she is? Rey knows that she's been relying on her palate more than her technique. And it doesn't help that Snoke is sitting _right_ there, judging her every move. She can fool the layman, but him?

She has no choice.

"It's not too much to handle," she says calmly. "I'll get started right away."

And she does, but not without extreme hesitation.

She's cooked her whole life, mostly out of her love for food, but also partially out of necessity. Plutt wasn't exactly a talented chef. In fact, Rey was fairly certain he'd never stepped foot in a kitchen in his entire life. To him, buy-one-get-one-free pizza deal from the local pizzeria was fine dining. He'd sometimes throw in a two liter bottle of Diet Pepsi when he was feeling particularly fancy.

Rey realizes pretty quickly that this isn't cooking.

It's a performance.

She prepares her mise, she gets the necessary pots and pans ready on the stove, she concentrates on the different cook times for all three separate dishes at once. It's intense, trying to remember each individual recipe while working on them at the exact same time. To make matters worse, Snoke never looks away.

It's honestly terrifying.

"So, my dear," Snoke says casually. "Where did you work before this fine establishment?"

"A little Italian restaurant called San Ramo," she answers, flipping the chicken in her skillet to ensure even cooking.

"San Ramo," he echoes. "Never heard of it."

Rey tries her best not to let this shake her. She really did work at a restaurant called San Ramo, but the place no longer exists thanks to poor reviews about service and a failing health safety grade. She might have overexaggerated her responsibilities there, as well. She was no more than a fry cook there, not a sous chef like she had claimed.

She gives the shrimp, now sizzling in its own delicious juices, a quick stir to keep from burning.

"And what would you consider to be your favorite meal?" Snoke asks. Rey really can't tell if he's genuinely interested, or trying his best to distract her.

Judging by how deathly still Kylo is beside him, it's likely the latter.

"I'm a sucker for anything sweet," she replies, checking on the chocolate she has melting over a double broiler. The rough square pieces she'd chopped up are slowly but surely transforming into a rich pool of dark chocolate.

"Knew it," she thinks she hears Kylo mumble under his breath. It's barely audible. Snoke pays him no mind.

Rey plates the shrimp stew and adds a bit of orange zest on top for a hit of refreshing citrus. The shrimp -now a beautiful bright red amidst roasted garlic and fennel- radiates steam. The soup itself is more of a sauce, hearty and thick and zesty.

Next is the coq au vin. She's prepared a smaller batch in light of the fast serving time. It's as traditional as they come, but Rey honestly can't think of any way to make it 'her rendition.' She's added a side of white rice and places a savory chicken thigh atop of the mound, broth soaking into each individual grain.

The mousse is a pain in the ass, but Rey doesn't give up. As much as she loves to eat desserts, she has a hell of a time preparing them. Rey just doesn't have the patience. Mousse itself takes forever to whip up to the right consistency, and considering the fact that she has a million other things to worry about, she can't get it quite the way she likes. She tops it off with a healthy dose of whipped cream, sprinkling bits of hard chocolate overtop to cover up the fact that it isn't the prettiest thing to look at.

Rey presents all three dishes to Snoke and holds her breath.

Snoke looks less than impressed as he picks up a fork.

"Where did you study, dear?" he asks, stabbing a shrimp with more ferocity than necessary.

"The Ahch-To Institute of Culinary Arts, sir."

"Just like you, my boy." Snoke pats Kylo on the arm. It's hard for Rey to ignore how Kylo flinches away. "Who was your instructor? Wallace? Hilroy?"

Rey knows none of those names. "Skywalker," she says, pulling from what she knows. Luke Skywalker was one of the only memorable instructors she had during her brief stint there.

"Skywalker?" Kylo echoes.

She nods. "Yes. He taught me everything I know. I graduated a few years ago."

Kylo turns pale. Paler than she's ever seen him. He just stares, wide-eyed and bewildered.

_What's with him? Did I say something wrong?_

Snoke takes one bite out of every dish, making sure to savor. He doesn't give any words of encouragement, nor does he provide any critique. He simply wipes his mouth on the back of a handkerchief he's pulled out of his jacket pocket -talk about fancy- before standing.

"Thank you for the meal," he says to her with a wide smile. "It looks like my boy here's stumbled upon quite the diamond in the rough."

_Damn. What a waste of food._

"Thank you, sir."

Snoke turns to Kylo. "Full of potential, this one. I hope training her doesn't keep you too occupied."

"It won't," Kylo answers flatly.

"I know my arrival must have been out of the blue to you. But I had to come and check on my favorite student. I suppose kid's these days don't like to answer their phones, hm?"

"Sorry. Won't happen again."

Snoke nods. "Good. I'll check in soon to see how your progress is going. I hope you come up with that new menu soon. You know how much I hate to wait." He turns back to Rey. "You have yourself a lovely evening, my dear. I hope to see you again."

Rey forces a polite smile. "Have a good night."

Snoke walks away and exits through the back doors, the click of his cane against the tile floor growing softer and softer as he retreats. It's only when he disappears entirely that Rey feels like she can breathe again.

"Do you think that went well?" she asks Kylo, voice light and teasing.

Kylo doesn't bite. He's very obviously in a sour mood. "Clean up," he orders. "I'll drive you home."

"You don't need to do that. I can just take the bus-"

"It's late. They aren't running anymore."

Rey glances up at the clock that's nailed to the wall above the walk-in. He's right. Snoke kept them behind almost an hour and a half. Rey supposes she could walk, but it's freezing out and Kylo did offer.

"Alright," she says. "Give me two seconds."

Kylo says nothing.

* * *

The ride home is awkward as fuck.

Save for the occasional direction, Rey doesn't say anything, and neither does Kylo.

His grip on the steering wheel is so tight that his knuckles are white. Rey can also hear him grinding his teeth over the loud rumble of the car engine. She debates about whether she should make small talk or not. Thank him for the ride. Compliment his car. Ask him why he looks like he's two seconds away from giving himself a heart attack.

She's only mildly embarrassed when they pull up to her neighborhood. It's in rough shape, the kind of place where a car like this will undoubtedly be jacked if left unattended for too long. Her apartment building doesn't look _too_ bad from the outside, though the graffiti on the outside walls is less than tasteful. 

_Banksy definitely doesn't live around here_ _._

Kylo pulls the car up to the curb and kills the engine. They just sit there. Rey isn't sure what to do.

She tugs at the sleeves of her winter coat, mentally bracing herself to step out into the cold. "Thank you for driving me," she says gently. "I really appreciate-"

"Why did you lie?"

The question is a punch to the gut.

It leaves her winded, so stunned that she forgets where and when she is. Rey stares at him. Kylo stares back. There's no give.

"I... I have no idea what you're talking about," she mumbles, throat closing up in discomfort. Her fight or flight instincts are offline.

"Why did you lie?" he asks again, firmer this time.

"I don't-"

"Your math doesn't add up."

"What?"

"Skywalker. He retired nine years ago."

"Y-you're wrong."

"I know for a fact I'm not."

Rey crosses her arms over her chest. "What makes you so sure?"

"Because Skywalker is my uncle."

Nevermind. _This_ is a punch to the gut.

"I was one of the last-" Kylo cuts himself off before he starts yelling. "I was the last student he ever taught."

Her blood is on fire. The voice in her voice tells her to run, but her body has no strength left to move.

"Who the hell are you?" he asks. "Tell me the truth."

Rey's mouth falls open.

She can't think. She can't speak.

So she runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho ho ho shit's getting real!
> 
> Lmao I said I was going to take a break but I love writing too much. If you're interested, check out my [Tumblr](https://lovewinonawren.tumblr.com/)!


	12. Something Inexplicable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested, check out my [Tumblr](https://lovewinonawren.tumblr.com/)!

Kylo gets out of the car and follows her, alarmed.

"Rey, wait!"

She doesn't listen. She runs into her building and all the way to the end of the hall, locking herself inside her apartment. She damn near clips Kylo's face when she slams the door shut.

He bangs his fist against the frame, frantic.

"Rey? Let me in. Talk to me."

He regrets calling her out the way he did, but Kylo doesn't know a better way to broach the subject. The second she mentioned studying with Luke, he knew. There was no possible way she was telling the truth. He needs to know. He needs to know because maybe -just maybe- he can help her.

A million and one questions race through his mind.

_What is she hiding? Who is she really? What the fuck is going on?_

"Rey?" he calls again. "Rey, please talk to me. I just want to know what's going on. Are you -fuck, I don't know- are you in trouble or something? Is that why you lied?"

"Go away," she says, her voice muffled by the door. The quiver in her words makes his blood run cold.

"I'm not going anywhere until you talk to me."

"Please, just leave." She sound exasperated and fearful.

"No."

"Why do you even care? Just fire me and get it over with."

Kylo chews on the inside of his cheek, holding back his frustration. He needs answers. "It's like you said," he says gently, carefully. "We're friends, aren't we? I just... I just want to help. I'm sure you have your reasons, but you need to talk to me. Don't hide, Rey. Let me in." And then, so soft that it's barely a whisper, "Please."

Rey doesn't say anything for a long time. A part of him is worried that she's gone, that this is the last he'll see of her.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he hears her undoing the locks, the door creaking open only an inch. The edges of her eyes are red with the threat of tears, her lips are chapped from all her worrying. Rey looks up at him and - _fuck_ \- she looks so small and vulnerable and afraid. 

_And it's my fault_.

"Tell me the truth, Rey."

She bites her bottom lip, looking defeated and on the verge of breaking down. "It's a long story," she mumbles.

"I've got nothing but time."

Rey pauses, regarding with the utmost suspicion. Kylo makes no move, desperate for her trust. If she doesn't entirely believe what he's saying, then he needs to prove through body language alone that she's not in trouble. He's here to help, not to be a foreboding presence -as hard as that might be for a man his size.

She eventually sighs and steps to the side, opening the door for him. "It's easier if I just show you," she says.

Kylo has no fucking idea what that's supposed to mean, but he's thankful to be making progress.

* * *

He stares at the money on her coffee table. She's laid everything out, wads upon wads of cash in front of them.

"Holy shit," he mutters.

"I know."

Kylo sits beside Rey on the couch. It's small, and he's -well- fucking tall and big and takes up over half of the space. Rey has her fingers laced together, hands placed atop her lap. He looks at her, bewildered.

"You're sure you're not in trouble?"

She shakes her head. "No. I'm not in trouble."

"You don't owe someone money? Are you involved in... Fuck, I don't know. Drugs or some shit?"

"No."

"Sex work?" he asks in a small, tight voice. "Trafficking? Theft? Are you on the run from the law?"

"No. Nothing like that. I've just been saving."

Kylo takes a deep breath. He counts, makes an estimate. There's almost a hundred thousand dollars here, more or less. "This should be in a bank."

"I know. But I..."

"What is it?"

Rey swallows. Kylo's entranced by the way her throat rises and falls with the action.

He dares to reach out. Just this once. He gingerly places his hand on her wrist, just to show her that he's there and it's okay and that he's listening.

"Rey."

She closes her eyes, gathering the courage to speak. "I grew up in London," she begins, far more timid and uncertain than Kylo's ever heard her. "My mom was a teacher and my dad was a mechanic. We were really happy. I adored them, and I think they adored me. I didn't have any brothers or sisters, so my mom spoiled me a lot. One of my earliest memories was of me playing in one of those KidKraft toy kitchen sets. I'd make my father sit down and pretend to eat what I ' _cooked_ ' for him all the time. I've always wanted to be a chef."

Rey smiles wistfully at the memory. Kylo thinks she looks beautiful when she does.

"And things were normal, for the most part. Nothing too out of the ordinary." Rey gets really quiet. "But then... Shortly after my fifteenth birthday, they disappeared."

Kylo frowns. He definitely wasn't expecting that. "They disappeared?"

Rey shrugs, shaking her head. "They just went missing. I don't... I remember they said they were going out for a bit. That they'd be back in time for supper. They never did. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I tried calling them, over and over and over again. Nobody ever picked up. I kept waiting. I was sure they'd be back. Surely something was just keeping them, right?

"But then I woke up the next morning and they still weren't there and I feared the worst. Luckily, I was able to go to my next door neighbor to ask for help. We called the police and they started a search for them. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into a month. Nothing."

Rey shivers, clearly holding back a sob. Kylo wants nothing but to wrap his arms around her.

"Since I was a minor, I wasn't allowed to live alone. I didn't have any close relatives who could take me in, and there weren't any distant ones who were willing to."

Kylo clenches his jaw, doing his best to keep his rage in check. "Then what happened?"

"I was placed in the foster care system," she says simply, like it's just another boring fact. "It was alright for the most part. Bounced around from home to home every now and again. I wasn't exactly a trouble child, so I got along with my families just fine. Situations changed sometimes, so I couldn't stay with one family for very long. But then I eventually wound up in the care of a man named Unkar Plutt."

Kylo's stomach flips. An inkling of dread fills his guts. He doesn't like where this is going. "Did he... Did he hurt you?" he asks cautiously.

Much to his relief, Rey shakes her head. "No, nothing like that. He never laid a hand on me."

"Good."

She reaches out and takes Kylo's hand, giving his palm a gentle squeeze. He lets her. Kylo adores the feel of her fingers.

"Plutt was... Well, for the most part, he was good to me. Bare minimum effort, parenting-wise, but I was old enough to take care of myself at that point." She leans back into the couch cushions behind her. "The only problem was that I wasn't of age to take over financially. All money had to go through him."

"And?"

"Plutt had a very bad gambling habit."

Kylo looks to the money. "So you _do_ owe a debt."

"No. Well, sort of." 

"That makes no sense."

"I wanted to attend Ahch-To for as long as I could remember. It was always my plan to pursue my love of cooking, even after my parents went missing... So I applied for a scholarship. I didn't think I'd get it, but I did. I was over the moon."

Kylo's heart sinks. "Don't tell me he..."

She nods slowly. Sadly. "The money was sent to Plutt's account for safe keeping since he was technically my guardian. I went off to Ahch-To, fully expecting him to have used the money to take care of my tuition. I really did attend. That wasn't a lie. I really did study with Luke Skywalker. I made it two weeks before I was called into the registrar's office. They told me that the payments for my program hadn't been made.

"So I called Plutt to see what the hell was going on. Turns out, he'd spent it all. Every fucking penny. Lost it betting on the ponies or something, not that that's important. What _was_ important was that the money that was reserved for me was gone and I couldn't stay. There was no way the money could be retrieved. There was no way for my scholarship to be re-issued. I was forced to drop out."

Rey wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "And it fucking sucked. It really sucked because I loved all of my classes and I was learning so much and..." She glances at him. "And I met some really nice people there. Specifically one boy named Ben."

Kylo's face drops. Suddenly everything clicks into place. He can't believe it.

The familiarity. The flashbacks he'd been getting. Everything makes sense and yet -at the same time- it doesn't.

"Holy fuck. It was you? You were the girl?"

"You didn't seem to remember me when I first got here, so I didn't say anything. It was a long time ago, so I didn't think it would do any good to bring it up."

He stares at her, taking her in. "I remember more now," he says slowly, images flitting through his mind. "I've been getting flashes here and there. Little, random thing. You had spatula in the shape of whale."

Rey lets out a huff of a laugh. "Oh, shit. I'd totally forgotten about Toby."

He snaps his fingers and laughs -oh so gently- with her. "Right. Toby. I remember picking on you about naming the damn thing."

"You thought it was stupid."

He smiles. "I did. But then you proceeded to name all of your utensils just to spite me."

The girl from his memories has been here all along. It's no fucking wonder Rey felt so familiar to him. Now he remembers. He remembers her bright smile and eagerness to learn. He remembers her sitting beside him in class, answering questions left and right. She was brilliant. She was the best of the bunch. A little bit of a sassy know-it-all, but Kylo remembers liking that about her.

And now she's here, lying her way into The First Order with piles of cash on hand.

"How does the money fit into all this?" he asks, curious.

Rey swallows. "Missing persons cases never close. They just go cold. But I think... I think my parents are still out there. Somewhere. I was swept into the foster care system really quickly. Maybe they've been looking for me this whole time. So..." She gestures to the money. "I want to hire a private investigator. When I was younger, I heard about this PI, Maz Kanata. She's apparently really, _really_ good. The best PI in the world. Like, she's solved hundreds of cold cases."

Kylo blinks, incredulous. "And she's going to cost..." He gestures to the money, too. "What? A hundred grand?"

"Well, a little more than that, actually."

"What the fuck? That's so much."

"She charges per hour, and her rates are obviously much higher than the average PI because... Well, she's the best. My parents' case is over a decade old, so I'm sure there's a lot of information she needs to sift through. I need to have as much saved up as possible so that I can be prepared for however long this drags out. Hopefully not too long, but still."

"Christ."

"That's why I really need this job," she says, painfully honest. "It pays so much better than every other job I've worked, and it'll help me get to my goal faster." Rey tenses, casting her eyes to the floor. "I didn't want to lie to you. I really didn't. It's just... It's a vicious cycle. Without the education I need, I can't get the work. Without the work, I can't earn the money. And without the money..."

"You can't find your parents," he finishes.

She nods, solemn. "Being a chef... It's all I've ever been good at. Sure, I could work at a Burger King, but who the fuck knows how long that'll take me. I was just desperate. I saw in the classifieds that you were hiring, so I applied. I swear, I didn't want to lie to you. I'm so sorry."

Kylo's quiet for a long while, turning everything over in his head. Yes, lying on one's resume is a terminable offence. If Snoke finds out, Kylo will be in deep shit for hiring someone so underqualified by his standards. The smart thing to do is let Rey go. Maybe he can offer her a severance deal so that she at least has the funds to find her parents. He supposes he can do that much for her.

But then again, it's _Rey_. There's just something about her, something inexplicable. She's got pure, raw talent. Rey can go far, maybe even further than he can. If she'd been given the same chances as him, they likely would have grown to be fierce rivals. It wasn't her fault that her dreams were quashed before she'd even gotten out of the gate. The fact that she's self-taught and capable of running a kitchen all by herself? Even Kylo knows how much a gem she is. And...

And he likes her.

He likes her more than he cares to admit.

He hadn't realized until now, but seeing her everyday at work is a breath of fresh air. She makes it easier on him. Makes him give a shit. Getting through a shift is less of a slog when he knows she'll be there. Kylo shudders at the thought of firing her only to replace her with Hux -because seriously, fuck that guy. He wants her there.

"I believe you," he says.

"You do?"

"Yes. But-"

"I understand," she says quietly. "If you have to fire me, I'll understand. But if you don't, I promise I'll work three times as hard. I'll do whatever I have to do to keep this job. I love working at The First Order. I really don't want to go, but-"

"You can stay."

"What?"

"You can stay."

"Is... Is this a joke?"

"I'm totally serious."

"But... But I'm not formally trained."

"I've never given a shit about formal education on a resume," he says simply. "What matters the most to me is if you can handle the heat. It's clear that you've got tons of practical experience, and you're a natural in the kitchen. You can't teach that shit in schools. I've had countless assholes walk through my kitchen thinking they were hot shit because they studied with who-the-fuck-ever. But when it came down to the rush and orders were piling up and it was time to dig deep, they weren't worth their salt. But you?" He gives her hand a squeeze. "You're something special, Rey. My kitchen hasn't run this smoothly in years and... And I really think it's because of you."

"Wow, Kylo, I... I don't know what to say."

"I'll let you stay, but on three conditions."

"Okay. What are they?"

"I want you to continue helping me come up with the new menu."

"Done. And the second condition?"

"Don't tell anyone that you didn't finish culinary school. It's quite frankly not their business to ask, but I know a few chefs at The First Order who will make a bigger deal out of it than it is."

"Hux?"

"Hux."

"Alright. I don't plan on telling anyone. What's the third condition?"

"Let me be your teacher," he states. "Come in two hours early to help me with the menu, and stay two hours after for formal training. I'll make a sous chef out of you yet."

Rey beams, her sadness melting to give way to hope. "Can I, um..."

"What is it?"

"Is it okay if I hug you?"

Kylo nods and she throws her arms around him to pull him into a tight embrace. Kylo instinctively hugs her back, wrapping her up in his big arms. It feels absurdly good to hold her.

She's warm. She smells like vanilla. He doesn't understand why she feels so right.

"Thank you," she says against his shoulder. "Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. I promise not to let you down. I'll work so hard, I swear."

"I know."

Rey moves away and Kylo hates it. He doesn't stop her, though. He finds satisfaction in how relieved she looks.

"God, I really thought I was going to be job hunting," she admits, laughing nervously.

Kylo shrugs. "I guess it's your lucky day."

"Must be." She clears her throat. "So... Why 'Kylo?'"

He shakes his head. "It's getting late. Story for another time."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Okay."

Kylo rises and Rey follows, sheepishly picking at beneath her nails. She sees him to the front door of the apartment. Before he goes, she asks, "You never answered my question."

"Which one?"

"About trivia night. Will you come?"

He rolls his eyes. "I don't really-"

"Pretty please?" She clasps her hands together. "Please, please, please? You don't even have to really play. Just come and hang out. You can spend the whole night drinking, if you really want to."

Kylo sighs. He can't bring himself to say no. "Fine."

Rey cheers and it's the most adorable thing he's ever seen. "Here. Give me your phone."

"Why?"

"So I can give you my number. I'll text you the address of the bar so we can all meet."

He relents, fishing his phone out of his back pocket. Rey navigates the screen expertly, adding herself to his contacts before texting her own phone so she has his number. She hands it back, smiling like an idiot.

 _A gorgeous, pretty idiot_.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she says.

"See you tomorrow," he promises.

He waits until Rey shuts the door before turning to leave. The second he gets outside, he lets out a huge exhale. This night has been... Well, it's been a lot. At this point, he just wants to go home and crash. Kylo's about to get back into his car when his phone chimes. At first, he thinks it's Rey.

It's Bazine.

_[Bazine] Feel like coming over?_

He sends a quick text back before slipping into the driver's seat. Once he hits send, he drives off, a massive weight lifting off his shoulders.

_[Kylo] Hey, Bazine. Sorry, but I think it's time we end this. It's been fun._

_[Bazine] Hey, no need to be sorry. We're both adults. I guess I better dust off the old Tinder account._

_[Bazine] Did you meet a girl or something? Just curious._

_[Bazine] That brunette from your work was hot._

Kylo smiles to himself, the ghost of Rey's touch and the smell of her hair lingering like a dream.

_[Kylo] I 100% agree with you there._

_[Bazine] ( 灬♥ 3 ♥灬) Happy trails, tiger._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Her truth is out! Now what about his?


	13. Trivia Night

Rey wanted to kiss him.

She settled for hugging him.

Now she's kicking herself for chickening out.

_Could have kissed him, Rey. You could have kissed him, but did you? NoOooOoo._

It all happened so fast. One second, she thought for sure she was about to lose her job. The next, she's at trivia with her friends the next evening and everything's completely fine.

The more thinks about it, revealing her secret was going to have to happen sooner or later. She just didn't think that it was going to be Kylo who figured it all out first. She's glad to finally be able to at least tell _someone_ the truth. Still, she'll have to be more careful from here on out. The last thing she needs is to complicate matters further by telling people who have no business knowing.

The pub in question looks to be a rather decent place. More of a sports bar, if anything, what with massive TV screens turned to various channels like ESPN, the NFL, and the NBA. There are two distinct sections to the pub, the bar on the higher tier near the back, and the main floor one step down where tables have all been re-arranged specifically for trivia night. She spots Finn, Poe, and Rose at one of the tables, having arrived before her.

"You made it!" Rose cheers, scooching over to pat the free seat next to her. "We thought you weren't going to show."

"It would have been super awkward if you hadn't," Poe mumbles.

Rey arches a brow. "Why would it have been awkward?"

"Because the boss man is here," Finn supplies.

Rey doesn't know how she missed him, but she did. Kylo is absurdly tall and broad, so now that she knows that he's here, her eyes lock onto him immediately like some kind of homing beacon. Everyone else disappears and he's all she can focus on. Her heart skips a beat. Rey's always thought that he looked dashing in his chef jacket. But outside of the kitchen, dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a dark grey Henley that has no business being as tight on him as it is, he's...

Well, he's sexy as fuck.

Especially so when he holds an entire tray full of drinks in one hand like it's fucking nothing.

Rey briefly wonders what she wouldn't give to be that tray.

_Down, girl._

Kylo smiles at her and she almost loses grip on reality. "You're here."

"I am."

"I'm glad."

She laughs. "Why would I invite you only to not show up?"

"Cruel prank?"

"I would never."

He chuckles. "Good."

Poe clears his throat. "Like, no pressure or anything, but do you think we could get to drinking? Very parched over here. Um, chef boss man, sir."

Kylo sets everything down and takes a seat next to Rey. He's treated the guys to some pretty high-quality beer, and he's got a glass of rosé for Rose -how fitting- and a gin and tonic for himself. There's one last drink remaining, a tall and narrow glass full of bubbly golden liquid. There are sliced strawberries submerged beneath a topping of vanilla ice cream. Kylo hands it to her.

"What is it?" she asks.

"A strawberry prosecco float. Who says vanilla ice cream can't be fancy?"

Rey smiles, very aware of how warm her cheeks feel. She takes a sip. It's utterly divine.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, very much."

"Thought you might."

Rose claps her hands. "Okay, team. Here's the plan." She rises from her seat, taking charge of the situation. "We were _this_ close to winning last week, but then _someone_ decided to be a showoff and start calling out answers before they had a chance to think about it."

Finn raises his hands in mock surrender. "Look, booze makes me overconfident."

"Overconfident, or stupid?" Poe chides.

"Shut up."

"Today's theme is film and television," Rose continues. "So we better ace it this week or so help me God, I'll nag your ear off about it at work. Got it, Finn?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What's the prize?" Rey asks.

"A whole pitcher of beer and a basket of hot wings."

"We could just buy it, you know," Kylo says with a sigh.

Rose, already a little tipsy and that much more brave as a result, points a finger at Kylo. "That's no fun. Besides, victory makes it taste that much better. _Capisce?_ "

Kylo puts his hands up in mock surrender, too, unwilling to piss Rose off. He gives Rey a side-eye, as if to say _well, fuck._

It makes Rey laugh.

* * *

Liquor has a fantastic way of making everyone friends. It's after the third round of drinks -that Kylo so graciously purchases for the table- that her other friends begin to warm up to him. Rey's immensely grateful. They were all so tense at first. Now, they look like they've been friends for ages.

As it turns out, Kylo and Poe get ridiculously loud when they've thrown back a few. They team up to relentlessly yell at the trivia night's host when he dares to contest one of their answers.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Poe roars.

"What he fucking said!" Kylo adds, booming so much louder than the rest of the pub.

The trivia host winces, clearly no match. "Would you two please calm down?"

"Give him the point," Kylo demands. "Give him the point!"

It doesn't take very long before people nearby join in on the chanting. Rey wonders if Kylo did that on purpose. It's astounding how charismatic he can be when he's yelling for the right reasons.

They get the point.

* * *

Unfortunately, they lose to the next table over in the lightening round. Rose still gets a consolation prize: a small basket of lightly salted fries. She munches away grumpily. Rey thinks she looks like a pouting hamster.

"Any pets?" Finn asks.

Rey shrugs. "I'm afraid not. My apartment building doesn't allow them."

"But if it did?"

"I'd love a dog."

"Big or small?"

"The bigger the better," she says with a grin. "Something with fluffy black hair, I think. I want to spoil it and cuddle with it all the time."

Rose nudges Rey in the arm with her elbow. "Save the cuddling for your boyfriend."

Rey laughs softly. "I'll keep that in mind if I ever end up with one."

She pretends not to notice Kylo's ears perk up.

Rose guffaws. "How's a gorgeous thing like you single?"

"Beats me. What about you guys? Any pets?"

Poe immediately pulls out his phone to show off a bunch of pictures he has on his camera feed. The majority of them feature a bright orange and white tabby. "This is BB-8," he announces with proud.

"Odd name," Kylo mutters.

"Well, he's my baby and he was the smallest out of a litter of eight, so..."

"And you?" Rey asks Kylo. "Any pets?"

"No. I'm not home enough. It wouldn't be fair to them."

"Maybe get a fish?" Finn suggests. "Super low maintenance."

"I'll pass."

Rose finishes her basket of fries, clearly dissatisfied. "You ever going to tell us who that leather babe was?" she asks Kylo.

He crinkles his nose. "' _Leather babe_?'"

Rose crinkles her nose, too. "Yeah, sorry. I just heart it."

"Oh, yeah," Poe says, raising a finger. "After work that one night."

"Scared me, to be honest," Finn mutters. "Thought she was some assassin on her way to kick our asses."

"Your girlfriend?" Rey asks, very much hoping that she doesn't sound desperate.

"No. No girlfriend. We... We saw each other for a little bit."

Poe and Finn, in their drunken state, let out an overly dramatic _ooh_.

Kylo clears his throat. "But that's over now."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Rey replies.

"Don't be. It was very amicable."

"Well, that's good."

Rose looks between Rey and Kylo and then back to Rey before giving Finn and Poe a suggestive smile. "Anybody up for more drinks?"

Poe groans. "I don't know. It's getting pretty late."

Finn pats his friend on the shoulder. "Come on. One more round, hm? What do you say, boss?"

"I think I'll pass. Someone needs to be sober enough to drive you all home."

"Who's going to grab our refills?"

"Dibs not it!" Rose shouts, much louder than necessary, before bringing the tip of her index to her nose.

Finn, Poe, and Rey immediately mirror the gesture, leaving Kylo the odd one out.

He sighs, reluctantly getting up from the table to head to the bar. "I've never been good at that game."

The second Kylo is out of ear shot, the trio lean in and practically swallow Rey whole.

"Holy shit, Rey," Rose practically squeals.

"What?"

"Uh, are we not sitting at the same table?" Finn asks. "You two have been giving each other googly eyes all night."

"We haven't."

Poe rolls his eyes. "If you two look any more like lovesick puppies, I'm going to have to adopt you both."

"You're overexaggerating," Rey insists. "There's... There's nothing going on between us."

Someone behind her taps her on the shoulder. Rey turns to find a pretty young woman with blonde hair sitting at the next table over. There's actually a whole group of them, dressed up for a girl's night out on the town.

The blonde smiles. "Sorry, couldn't help but overhear. I was actually hoping to give him my number."

Rey flushes bright red. "Wha- Oh. Um..."

The woman scribbles her number down on a nearby napkin and passes it to Rey. "Would you mind giving this to him? We were actually on our way out. I wasn't going to say anything before because I thought you two were together, but-"

"Sure, I guess," Rey says in a mousy voice.

"Thanks, doll."

Rey's smile is obscenely tight. "Yeah. No problem."

_It's definitely a problem_.

The table of women leave just as Kylo returns with another tray of refreshments. He sets everything down, eyeing Rey curiously.

"What was that all about?" he asks.

Rey crumples up the napkin and stuffs it into her jacket pocket. "Oh, nothing. Just asking where she got her lipstick from. Thought it might look nice on me."

He tilts his head to the side, giving her lips a once over. "I think you'd look nice, either way."

Finn and Rose do their best to hide their laughter. Poe rests his chin on his hand and dares to make kissing faces. Kylo's smart enough to ignore them.

And if Rey sits a little closer to Kylo for the rest of the night to ward off the interest of nearby women, he certainly doesn't seem to mind.

* * *

They drop Rose off first, and then Finn and Poe -who are apparently roommates and Rey just never figured that out until now.

Kylo drives her home next. The ride is nowhere near as intense as it was yesterday.

"Did you have fun?" she asks, mildly buzzed. The effects of her drinks have long since worn off, but a warm haze lingers to fill her mind. She feels good.

That, and the scent of his cologne works like magic on her. Something about him reminds her of the ocean. A little cold and dark sometimes, but with moments of shining brilliance, hidden treasures and vibrant life hidden somewhere deep below.

She wants to dive straight in.

"Yeah, actually," he says while taking a left turn. "Pretty fun."

Rey smiles, triumphant. "Good."

"Trivia host was a fucking idiot, though."

"I mean, technically-"

"No, not ' _technically_.' It was a poorly worded question open to interpretation. That was his fault."

She laughs, throwing her head back. "Oh my God, let it go."

He laughs with her. The sound of his voice vibrates straight through her. "Do you think I did alright?" he asks. "With the others, I mean."

"You were great. Poe even said to me that you weren't as bad as he thought. Don't tell him I told you that, though."

He chuckles. "My lips are sealed."

When they finally arrive outside her apartment building, Rey suddenly doesn't want to go. She's about to ask Kylo if he'd like to walk her in, just so she can spend a few more minutes with him, but he's already getting out of the car and circling around front to open the passenger-side door for her. He offers her his hand. She doesn't think twice and takes it.

They walk together, taking their sweet time venturing down the hall. Her shoulder brushes up against his arm, but he doesn't move away. In fact, he leans into the touch. His fingers ghost past hers, too many times to be considered an accident.

Something inside her is bubbly and bright, and Rey knows for a fact that it isn't the last remnants of prosecco. She gets to the door of her apartment and opens it, turning to look up at Kylo.

He's inches away. Rey wonders when he'd grown comfortable enough to be so close. She can't complain.

"Do you feel like coming in for a cup of coffee?" she asks, doing her best to keep calm and appropriate.

But fuck, it's hard to do when he's so damn close and smells so fucking _good_.

In all fairness, Kylo really looks like he wants to kiss her. Lord knows Rey really wants to kiss _him_.

He doesn't, though, and Rey's never been more disappointed.

"I should... I should probably get going," he says slowly, low and restrained. "It's getting late. And I need you sharp tomorrow."

"Right. Totally understandable."

"Goodnight, Rey."

"Goodnight."

She closes the door softly, exhaling as quietly as she can. Her heart's pounding loudly in her chest, pulse so powerful that she can feel it in the tips of her fingers and toes. She supposes that it's just as well. Kylo's just being responsible and she can hardly fault him for that. Rey turns to hang up her jacket and purse, toeing off her shoes. She's just about ready to head to the bathroom to take a shower when...

There's a knock at the door.

She's never opened it so fast before.

"By ' _coffee,_ ' did you mean-"

She grabs him by the collar and drags him inside.

Their lips come crashing together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested, check out my [Tumblr](https://lovewinonawren.tumblr.com/)! We can chit chat and share a coffee!


	14. Hunger [NSFW]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marking this chapter as NSFW to be safe. No explicit intercourse, but heavy make out session and petting. Mind the tags and enjoy! ;)

Glorious. That's the only word he can come up with to describe kissing her.

Kylo picks her up like she weighs nothing and relishes the way Rey gasps in surprise. She instinctively wraps her legs around his hips, arms circling around his neck and shoulders for support. Their lips slot together, a perfect fit, breathing each other in like their lives depend on it.

It certainly _feels_ like their lives depend on it.

He pins her back against the nearest wall, suddenly winded when she rolls her hips against him. The languid moan that he draws from her lips is downright sinful. Just the sound of her voice is enough to have him hard as fuck, so much so that it actually _hurts_ not to take her then and there.

Kylo's never felt this out of control before. He strains against the throbbing of his cock, desperately trying to hold back out of fear of hurting her. With Bazine, he was used to fucking hard and fast. That's how she liked it, and how he preferred it. But Rey?

God, he wants to be gentle.

He wants to be gentle and take his time and savor every inch of her. He wants to run his fingers through her hair and tease her to the point of unraveling and give her everything she could ever ask for because she deserves no less.

But he also wants to have her wet on his cock and screaming his name and whimpering nonsense as pleasure overwhelms her senses. He wants to drag his fingers over her skin and mark her with hard kisses and hold her down as orgasm shakes her body.

He doesn't know which he wants more. Kylo wants her so badly that it almost tears him apart.

He settles for exploring Rey's mouth with the tip of his tongue, eager to memorize her taste and savor the softness of her lips.

Even though he stumbles through her tiny apartment, bumping clumsily into furniture while drinking her in, Kylo's hold on Rey never falters. By some miracle, they make it to her couch, tumbling down together onto the cushions in a tangle of arms and legs. She rolls her hips against him again and it drives him fucking crazy.

She's so small it's alarming, like handling fine crystal beneath him. He's constantly worried about crushing her, but she doesn't seem to mind him on top. In fact, she pulls him that much closer, eager for more.

Rey sucks on his bottom lip, combing her fingers through his hair like she's searching for a lifeline out in the middle of murky waters. She grinds against him again, unleashing lava through his veins. Her hands are just as greedy as his, dragging down the front of his chest, wandering further to the front of his pants. Rey palms at his cock through the stiff fabric of his jeans and he just about loses it.

"Rey-"

There's something ravenous in her eyes. Something seductive and dangerous.

It's pure hunger.

They move with purpose. Rey undoes his belt, he slips his hands beneath her shirt. She gropes the front of his boxer briefs, he fondles her breasts. He mouths at the delicate skin of her throat, she parts her legs that much wider. They breathe as one, panting and groaning and drowning in the pursuit of pleasure.

They've been dancing around each other long enough, even though Kylo has no sweet clue when the dance even began.

Was it the first day she arrived at The First Order? Maybe the first time he saw her truly smile. Perhaps it was when she took charge of his kitchen and he recognized a fountain of untapped skill.

He can't be too sure. Right now, he doesn't care.

Rey may be hungry, but he's ready to devour.

She hooks her fingers over the waistband of his boxer briefs, the contact of her bare skin against his hips sending a jolt straight through him.

He stops and pulls away. "Wait."

Rey braces herself up on her elbows, concern written all over her face. "Shit. Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, I-"

"No, no," he assures quickly. "I just... Fuck. I think we should talk."

She brings her hands up to cover her eyes, mortified. "Oh, fuck. I'm sorry. Did you not want to- Shit, I thought-"

Kylo chuckles and cups her face, peering deep into her lovely eyes. Her pupils are blown wide open, her desire undeniable. "I want to, Rey. I... I like you. But I think if we're going to do this, we should do it right."

"What do you mean?"

He takes a deep breath. "I mean... I'd like to take you out."

"Like, kill me or..."

He snorts a laugh. "On a date, dummy. Would you like to go to dinner with me, maybe?"

Rey giggles nervously, visibly relaxing. "But we work in a restaurant all day. Won't that be a bit too close to home?"

"You might be right about that."

Kylo sits up and pulls Rey over so that she's straddling his lap. It takes some of the strain off of his cock, but he knows it's going to take a hot minute before he'll be able to settle down. Rey circles his neck with her arms and remains close. He can't get over how perfect she feels.

"We can think of something else," he says. "But I do want to take you out. And I think... I think we should set some ground rules. Especially since we work together-"

"And you're my boss."

"Exactly. I don't want you to feel obligated into agreeing to go out with me just because-"

Rey presses her fingers to his lips to stop him. "I don't feel obligated in the slightest," she states. "I like you, too. And I'd love if we could do something together. Away from work."

Kylo nods. "Do you have any suggestions?"

Rey presses her lips into a thin line and crinkles her nose, appearing deep in thought. Kylo thinks it's the most adorable thing he's ever seen. "When's our next day off?" she asks. "Have you already worked out next week's shifts?"

"I have, but I can move things around."

"It probably wouldn't be a good idea to go out on a weekend. The kitchen's going to need us."

"How about Tuesday? Restaurant's usually very quiet. They should be able to handle it if we're both away."

Rey smiles. "Tuesday works great. I think the aquarium offers discounts then, too."

Kylo arches a brow. "The aquarium?"

She shrugs, sweetly shy. "I've always wanted to go, but I hate going to places like that all by myself, so-"

"The aquarium it is," Kylo says without hesitation. "I've never been to one, either."

Her smile outshines a thousand suns. "Really?"

"Of course."

"Oh, yay! I can't wait."

Kylo leans forward to kiss her, unable to help himself. It's ridiculous how lost they get in each other's taste. When they finally pull away, Kylo is blissed out of his mind.

"You, um..." she mumbles, struggling to recover from her giddy thoughts. "Something about ground rules?"

"Oh, yeah." He clears his throat. "I think we should keep this between us for now. Until we figure things out."

She nods. "Sure, I get that. But I'm pretty sure the others already know."

"Do they?"

"Mentioned something about how we looked like lovesick puppies."

Kylo smirks. "Were we that obvious?"

"Pretty sure they were drunk when they said that, so I'd take it with a grain of salt."

"Duly noted."

"But yeah. I think we should keep it on the down low, too."

"No PDA at the workplace," he says sternly. "Nothing personal, but that's not something I'm into. Like, ever."

"Ever?"

"Ever."

"May I ask why?"

Kylo shrugs. "Work is work."

"Gotcha. I can respect that."

"Thank you. Anything you want me to keep in mind?"

"Yeah, but it's not so much a rule as it is a question."

"Shoot."

The tips of her ears turn pink. "You said that you and Bazine had a... a _thing_."

"That's right. We had a casual arrangement."

"How recently did that end?"

"Two nights ago."

"Wow, that's _really_ recent."

"Yeah, well... I realized that I wanted to take this somewhere with you."

"So... I suppose you haven't had the chance to, um..."

Kylo chuckles. "There's no need to be shy, Rey. It's just me."

Rey clears her throat and tries again. "I suppose you haven't had the chance to get tested, have you?"

"I haven't. We always used protection, but I'll schedule an appointment and take care of it promptly. What about you?"

"I dated a guy a few years ago, but I haven't seen anyone since. Too busy with work. I'm probably overdue for another test, either way, so I'll get one just to be safe."

"Sounds good."

"And... And if this doesn't end up working out-"

"Rey-"

" _If_ it doesn't end up working out, I really hope we can still... Well, be friends, I guess. Because I think you're pretty great."

Kylo smiles. "Yeah. Me, too."

"You think you're great, too?"

"What? No. I meant-"

Rey throws her head back and laughs. "I'm messing with you."

"Why are you such a menace?"

"Someone has to keep you on your toes."

"I see."

"Good."

"Excellent."

"Peachy keen."

"Was there anything else you can think of?"

"Not right now. I'll have to let you know."

"Please do."

"Can we go back to making out now?"

He laughs, feeling better and lighter than he has in ages. "Fuck, yes."

Kylo knows he's probably being overdramatic, but kissing Rey is the best damn thing in the world. It was never like this with him and Bazine. Not even for a second. With Bazine, it was clinical and formulaic and rigid. But with Rey, he's never been so gladly out of his element before.

Everything about her excites him to no end. He feels like a fucking teenager because it's only been two seconds into kissing her and he's rock hard again. Rey seems to know this, deliberately rotating her hips against him to send pleasure flooding through his body.

He knows it's too soon to do anything with her. He really likes her and he doesn't want to fuck things up by moving too fast. But at the same time, Kylo desperately wants her out of her clothes, splayed out in front of him, ready for him to have like a starving man at an open buffet.

The anticipation is torture. It may very well be enough to kill him.

He can't stop thinking about what she must look like underneath it all. Are her cute freckles exclusive to her cheeks, or are they hidden away like naughty little secrets, spread out across her skin like stars against the night sky? Where exactly will she allow him to leave love bites? He pictures her covered in dull red marks on her breasts, the side of her neck, on each of her inner thighs.

He can't wait to have her. But for now, he must learn to be patient.

For now, he needs to savor what he already has.

He has the gentle curve of the small of her back. He has the smell of her vanilla shampoo fully memorized. He has her lips on his, tender and sweet. He has her pulsing racing and breathing uneven, her excitement electric enough that he can feel it in the air.

He wants this to last forever.

He should know he's never that lucky.

Kylo's phone goes off four times in quick succession, a series of incoming text alerts startling them both.

"Ignore it?" Rey mumbles against his lips, practically pleading.

"Can't," he replies, wholly apologetic as he checks his phone with a squint.

"Who is it?"

"Snoke."

The name is more effective than a sudden plunge into cold water. The mood is dead, kind of like the soulless creature living in Snoke's husk of a body.

"I have to get going," he tells her softly.

"Are you sure you can't stay a while longer?"

Kylo thinks she's so sweet that she's going to give his heart cavities. "Unfortunately. He's tightening his leash. If I don't answer, I'll be in deep shit."

Rey nods slowly, wearing a gentle and understanding smile. "Okay."

They readjust their clothes before Rey leads Kylo to the apartment door. They linger, giggling and smiling like children who've gotten away with something.

"Still helping me with the menu tomorrow?" he asks.

Rey nods. "Of course. I'll see you then, chef."

Kylo dips in one last time to kiss her chastely and -ah, fuck- he can't remember the last time he felt this happy to be here and this sad to be leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear the explicit porn's coming, please be patient with me! 
> 
> Happy New Year everybody! I hope everybody stays safe out there. I'll be back soon with more chapters, just going to take a day or two to rest.
> 
> If you're interested, check out my [Tumblr](https://lovewinonawren.tumblr.com/)!


	15. Comfort Food

There's something lovely about walking into the kitchen to find Kylo busy at work, diligently turning something over on the stove in front of him. It's his hands, she thinks. His big, strong hands and sturdy fingers that know exactly where to go and what to do. They're mesmerizing. What she wouldn't do to have his hands all over her-

_We're at work, Rey. Boundaries._

It's truly a privilege to watch him cook. He's facing away, but this gives Rey ample time to admire the expanse of his broad back. The back that she was pretty much clawing at last night.

_Self control, Rey. Ever heard of it?_

"Hey, you," she greets gently, not wanting to startle him.

Kylo turns to look at her over his shoulder. His smile is wide and warm, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he does. "Hey," he replies softly. "Have you eaten yet?"

Rey shakes her head sheepishly. "No, sorry."

"Figured." Kylo plates what he's been working on and sets the food down on the nearest prep table. "Pull up a stool."

Something bubbly blooms within Rey's chest as she sits down, eyeing the meal Kylo's prepared for her. Just a whiff of it is enough to have her stomach grumbling.

He's made her a chicken Florentine crepe. The crepe itself is thin and crisp, a beautiful golden brown blanket around its savory filling. The rotisserie chicken is mixed in with bits of juicy mushroom, chopped up spinach, and a very healthy helping of Italian blend cheese. Rey can smell the roasted garlic and the hint of nutmeg he threw in. 

The first bite is like taking a bite out of heaven. She almost inhales the whole damn thing. It's rich, it's buttery, it's perfect.

"Ah, fuck," she mumbles, mouth full. "This is so good."

"You really think so?"

"Mm-hmm. You should be a chef."

"Hilarious," he says dryly. She can tell his annoyance is feigned because his smile betrays him.

 _God, it should be illegal to look that handsome_.

She waits until she's devoured about half her meal before swallowing to ask, "What did Snoke want last night?"

Kylo rolls his eyes. "Same thing he always does. Updates on the new menu. I BS'd my way through some suggestions. He's out of town right now checking on one of his other restaurants. He said he'd be in by the end of the month for a taste test. "

"But you don't have anything yet."

"Exactly."

"That's a dangerous game."

He shrugs. If Rey didn't know any better, she'd argue he looks defeated beyond belief. It's sad, really. Rey can see the struggle in his eyes, the disinterest. She knows Kylo is talented, one of the best chefs of their generation. There have been countless news and magazine articles, as well as hundreds of reviews from some of the most esteemed food critics raving about his dishes.

So this apparent disconnect is confusing to witness. Something's holding him back. She knows it, he knows it.

And if Snoke knows it, Kylo's in trouble.

"What were some of the things you suggested?" she asks him.

"Mostly seafood dishes. Lots of lobster. Asshole food snobs _love_ lobster. They think it's the fanciest fucking shit out there."

"Didn't they used to feed lobster to prisoners because it was so cheap?"

Kylo nods. "Back when they used to overfish and had an overabundance. Now it's a fucking delicacy."

Rey smiles. "I'm getting the sense you don't actually like lobster."

"Fucking hate it. Takes too long to cook, hard to prep, pain in the ass to plate. I swear to God, if I hear one more complaint about portion sizes being a rip-off, I'll jump into the pot of boiling water myself."

This makes Rey laugh. "Never took you for a drama queen."

"Sorry. I don't mean to bitch. It's just... You're easy to talk to."

She suddenly feels drunk, even though it's a little before noon and she's never been more sober. There's just something about him -those hints of quiet sincerity and honesty- that makes her feel light and bubbly.

Rey finishes off her lunch and pushes the plate to the side. "What was something you used to love to eat as a kid?" she asks.

"What?"

"I've never had to create original recipes before, but if I had to, I think it'd be fun to try and recreate dishes from my childhood. Stuff that I haven't eaten in ages. My mother used to make this really weird hotdog and mac and cheese combination -she always drowned it in cheese- but it was the most delicious thing in the world. I've tried making it myself, but it's never quite the same. I think she had a secret ingredient in there somewhere. It's sort of fun to try and figure out what it is, like a nostalgia kick. Maybe that could work for you? At the very least, it'll help you get started."

Kylo leans against the counter, dipping in to regard Rey curiously. She can practically see the gears turning in his head. While he mulls it over, Rey stares at his lips.

 _No, not at work._ _Damn, this is hard._

But she can't stop thinking about how he picked her up. Dear _God_ , she'd never been more turned on in her life. She was putty in his hands. A part of her wonders what it would be like to have him kiss her right here and now, pinning her against the nearest work station so that she can reach down and-

"That's not a bad idea," he mumbles.

Rey inhales sharply, snapping back to reality. "Anything come to mind?"

He thinks. Really thinks. Rey can't help but notice how he sort of just... _disappears_. It gives her the chance to truly study his face. The hard edge of his jaw line, the way his lips wear a permanent pout, the way his inky black hair serves to hide the shape of his ears. She wants to reach out to tuck a strand of his hair away.

She doesn't. She knows the rules.

So she sits there, fingers itching to touch.

Something sparks in Kylo's mind. At least, she thinks so, because he immediately moves to the walk-in to grab something. Rey thinks it's amusing how single-minded he can be sometimes. He'll stop everything at the drop of a hat to focus on whatever he needs to get done. His focus is admirable.

He returns with only five ingredients, not including the salt and pepper they have readily available at each cooking station. Kylo's selected the best potatoes they have in storage, a medium-sized white onion, a hearty block of Reblochon-style cheese, a slab of fatty bacon, and has even retrieved a dry white wine from the downstairs pantry.

Rey's mind races. The ingredients are simple, but there are hundreds of different possible outcomes. She can't even begin to fathom what Kylo has in mind.

He handles his knives beautiful. His grip is strong, but just light enough to offer the most flexibility. It isn't very long before he slices up generous bits of bacon and has it sizzling in a hot pan, fat melting away and frying all around the meat to leave it nice and crisp. In goes finely minced onion, and then a good cup or so of white wine to deglaze the bottom of the pan. Afterwards, in go the potatoes, which he's skinned and sliced with mind-bending accuracy. Kylo pops everything into an oven-proof dish before covering the top with a hefty layer of cheese. He places it in the oven, but doesn't bother setting a timer.

He'll know when it's done.

"Are you going to tell me what this mystery dish is?" Rey asks.

Kylo smiles. "It's a tartiflette," he explains. "My... father used to make it all the time. Comfort food, for when I wasn't feeling well. It was one of the only things he didn't burn when cooking."

Rey sits up a little straighter. "Your father? Is he a chef, too?"

"No," he replies, suddenly stiff and rigid. "He was a mechanic."

"Was?"

"Can you check that the inventory was stocked?" he asks abruptly. "Before everyone gets here and it gets too busy."

Rey frowns. "Um, sure?"

"Thanks."

She gets up from off her stool and slowly makes her way over to the walk-in. There's a detailed shipping chart attached to a clipboard hanging just to the right of the big metal door. It's a simple enough task to do, taking her all of thirty seconds to verify, so Rey can't help but feel confused. She still doesn't know what happened to him, all those years ago. Rey wants to ask, but she's worried about sticking her nose where it doesn't belong.

 _He'll open up eventually. Just give him time_.

When she gets back from her singular task, things are suddenly very awkward. She has no idea how she's supposed to move forward from here. Kylo, to be fair, looks no better off.

Luckily, Hux walks in and it's suddenly so much worse. The redhead glares at the two of them, grumbling something under his breath that Rey's sure isn't anywhere close to a ' _hello._ '

Finn and Poe are the next two to show up. They're chatting about some kind of vet appointment for their cat. Rose arrives not long after, and then the rest of the kitchen staff arrive, immediately putting away their coats so that they can get to their opening duties.

Kylo takes the food out from the oven and sets it down on the counter, scooping a small portion of the now creamy, cheesy, bacon-sprinkled potatoes into a smaller bowl for Rey. She doesn't waste time and takes a bite. It's piping hot against her tongue, but the slight burn is totally worth it.

"What do you think?" Kylo asks, looking very much like a child seeking approval.

"This is amazing," she says, already moving in for a second bite. It's honestly so good that she's speechless. She just wants to eat and eat and eat because it's just that heavenly.

He has an undeniable gift.

Maybe they both do.

He tilts his head to the side. "How would you improve it?"

Rey smiles. "If you hit it with a bit of thyme and garlic, I think this could be a hit. I definitely think you should add it to your new menu."

His smile is shyer, almost discrete. Rey wonders if it's because everybody's here now and he not used to being anything but a hard-ass head chef around them. Rey thinks it's sweet, like his smiles are a private little secret just between them. When Finn, Poe, and Rose come on over, he simply nods at them in greeting and walks away, getting ready to man the front of the line before service starts.

Finn rubs his hands together. "What do we have here?"

"Can we try?" Rose asks.

Poe doesn't even ask. He's already stuffing his mouth full. "Fucking _yum_. Did the boss man make this for you?"

The only reason she doesn't respond ' _yes_ ' with the utmost pride is because Rey's too busy trying to get a few more bites in. Some of the other chefs show up, curious and eager to give the dish a try. Apparently, Kylo cooking is as much a rare spectacle to them as it is to Rey.

The whole thing is devoured within a minute, not a scrap left over.

 _I was right. A definite hit_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested, check out my [Tumblr](https://lovewinonawren.tumblr.com/)! Please feel free to comment, they feed my soul. I read every single one, and they honestly motivate me to write so much! I've got the entire story outlined, so please sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride!


	16. Sweetheart [NSFW]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marking this chapter NSFW because Solo's going to have some fun solo, if you catch my meaning ;)  
> Also, please be advised our favorite dumbasses are going to get a whole lot hornier from here on out. Things are getting spicy.  
> If any of you think of any tags that you feel I should add, please do let me know in the comments!

Something's different.

He's finally _awake_.

Kylo isn't quite sure when it happened, but he realizes now that he'd been working beneath the heavy weight of a thick fog for years. It left his body languid and his mind cloudy. Unable to taste, unable to see, unable to care. But now? Now he's excited, and he's starting to suspect his sous chef has something to do with it.

He almost breaks his own rule on numerous occasions throughout tonight's service. Rey's impossible to ignore. She's honestly the best kind of distraction. Rey orbits around him like his own personal comet. He finds surprising comfort in her proximity, assured by her constant presence like the constant rise and set of the sun.

Kylo doesn't think it's a problem until he realizes he's accidentally called out desserts before appetizers for table 7 -a seriously amateur mistake in terms of timing- because being around Rey makes his whole body feel dopey. Maybe if she'd stop grazing up against him while he worked, he'd be able to focus.

But on the other hand, he doesn't want her to stop.

As a matter of fact, what he really wants is to take Rey into the walk-in and kiss the ever-loving daylights out of her. What he really wants is to take her to the kitchen office, shut the door, and bend her over his work desk. What he really wants is to strip her down and see her in nothing but her chef jacket-

"Chef?" Poe asks.

"Huh?"

"We're closing up. You coming?"

Kylo blinks twice, suddenly realizing that the kitchen is quiet and the last few chefs are headed out the door. He can't remember the last time he got through a shift this easily. Everything went smoothly, minor issues popping up here and there, but nothing he and Rey couldn't handle in an instant.

_We make a pretty good team._

"Boss?" Poe waves a hand in front of Kylo's face. "Oh, shit. Hey, Rose? What are the signs of a stroke again?"

Kylo swats Poe's hand away. "I'm not having a stroke. Just thinking."

"Good, because my CPR's rusty as fuck."

"I'd rather you let me die than perform CPR on me."

Poe chuckles. "Duly noted."

"You guys go on ahead. I've got to talk to Rey."

"Is she in trouble or something? If it's about the broken pilot light-"

"Broken pilot light?"

"Yeah. I told you about it three times already. It's the reason my steaks haven't been cooking properly. I've been working on a broken element."

Kylo, for the life of him, doesn't remember any of these conversations. He folds his arms over his chest. A broken pilot light isn't the end of the world, but it's certainly an inconvenience. He's going to have to call the repairman to have the appropriate parts replaced, but there's no telling if they'll get here in time for the weekend rush.

The heavy clatter of a tool box on a nearby counter catches him by surprise. He turns to find Rey by the stove in question, searching for the necessary tools she needs to fix it.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks her.

"Building a space ship," she answers sarcastically. Rey smiles at Poe. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it. You guys have a good night."

Poe nods. "See you tomorrow. You two be good."

Kylo frowns. "What's that supposed to mean-"

"Goodnight!" Rey says cheerfully, moving to close the door on everyone. She turns and leans against the locked doors, holding back a laugh. "Are you feeling alright? I've never seen you so spacey before."

He shrugs, unable to stop himself from smiling. "What can I say? It was a good day."

"I'm glad." Rey moves to the stove and starts taking the element off, along with the silver metal drip pan beneath it.

"You should really leave it for the repairman," Kylo starts.

"Relax. I used to fix these all the time."

"You did?"

She nods, tongue sticking out from the corner of her mouth in concentration. "The equipment we had at the place I worked before was at least thirty years out of date. I can fix this one up no prob- Ah, see? The pilot adjustment screw's just a bit loose. Can you hand me a slot screwdriver?"

Kylo shifts through the tool box -it's a dusty old thing, hidden away somewhere in the darkest corner of the pantry downstairs- but eventually finds what he's looking for. At least, he thinks so. Judging by the dissatisfied expression Rey wears, probably not.

"No, I said a slot screwdriver."

"What the fuck even is that?"

"It's the flat one. Kind of looks like a spatula."

"You should have just said that in the first place. That's language I understand."

Rey giggles. "Of course, how silly of me."

Kylo holds up another tool. "This one?"

"No. That one's too thick. I need the three-sixteenth inch."

He holds up another, and then another, but to no avail. "You have to be fucking with me, right?"

"Unfortunately not," Rey teases. "Good thing you're cute."

She sidles up next to him, her arm brushing up against his. It's ridiculous how much Kylo likes her hands. They're small and cute, fingers slender and elegant. When she leans over to adjust the pilot screw, Kylo catches a glimpse at the bare skin of the nape of her neck. He has to fight the urge not to reach out and brush her hair to the side.

It's just that being near her does something to him, something he can't even begin to comprehend. Any sense of self-control goes straight out the window whenever Rey is near. It's an overwhelming feeling that he constantly has to keep in check because to him, there's nothing he wants more than to have her lips on his.

He finds himself just behind her, one hand on either side of her on the stove edge. Rey works in the space between his arms, either unaware or perfectly content with his proximity.

It's probably the latter.

When she's finished, she replaces the parts and turns the stove on to test. A low, gentle flame ignites, the issue officially rectified. Rey shuts it off just as quickly, satisfied with her job well done.

"There, as good as-"

She turns, her sentence fading into nothing. She licks her lips, watching Kylo with an intense intrigue. They've drawn together like magnets.

_Fuck._

He really wants her. She really wants him.

Kylo just might break his own rules. Just for her.

She whispers, "We should really..."

"What?" he whispers, just as soft.

"What, um..." Rey swallows, breathless.

Kylo takes a deep breath, soaking in the warmth of her body. His blood is on fire and his heart is about to leap out of his chest. He adores how her cheeks have turned a light shade of pink, or the way her plump lips part in anticipation, or how her pupils are blown wide.

She drives him fucking wild.

"What were you going to teach me today?" she asks, finally mustering up enough courage to find her voice.

_Ah, right. Back to business._

Kylo straightens his back and steps away. "Knife skills," he says, very much hating gravelly his voice sounds. "Let's put your new set to work."

"I know my way around a knife."

"You do. But today, we're going to practice precision. Tell me, what's the difference between fine brunoise cut and a batonnet?"

Rey blanks. "I'm pretty sure those are just words you've made up."

"How exactly did you learn to cook?"

"By watching, mostly. TV shows and stuff. I know, it's kind of lame."

"No, it's... It's actually really impressive."

"It is?"

"You've picked up a lot of the beginner and intermediate techniques. Now it's time to get specific." Kylo tilts his head toward the walk-in. "There's a bin of vegetables that I set aside for you. They were about to expire, anyways, so you might as well use them to practice. Go grab them and come back."

Rey nods, her knowing grin sending sparks shooting up his spine. When she returns with the bin, she opens up her knife rolls. Kylo brings out his knives, too, preparing to demonstrate. A good teacher should be hands on, after all. Rey picks up her santoku, while Kylo opts for his chef's knife.

"I've been meaning to introduce you to Springsteen," she says, brimming with pride.

"You named it?"

"I named it."

_God, her smile can light up a room._

_It's fucking blinding._

"Don't tell me you named-"

"Every single one. Yep! Would you like me to introduce you?"

Kylo laughs and shakes his head. "I have a feeling you're going to anyway."

"This is Clive, Philip, John, Michael, Nate, Toby the Second, and Fred," she says, pointing to each one.

"And the bread knife?"

"Bob. Rather fitting, right?"

He rolls his eyes. "God, it's a good thing you're cute."

Rey gently bumps him in the hip with her own. "Show me what the hell a fine brunoise is."

Kylo demonstrates with a large potato, slicing with deathly precision and accuracy. "A batonnet is a rectangular prism that measures a quarter inch wide, quarter inch tall, and two to two and a half inches long. If you're making French fries, it has to measure a quarter inch wide, quarter inch tall, and three inches long."

"Does it _have_ to?"

"That's how they test you in school. To make sure you're following instructions. You have to learn to measure by eye."

"Please don't tell me you're going to test me-"

"I'm _definitely_ going to test you."

"What if I fail?"

"You won't."

"Your faith in me is flattering."

"Less talk, more watching."

"Yes, chef."

Kylo moves on to demonstrate a fine brunoise. He slices the vegetable into even smaller portions, edges sharp and straight, turning the batonnet into a small pile of perfect cubes. "A fine brunoise measure one-sixteenth, by one-sixteenth, by one-sixteenth."

"There's no way you can do that without messing up. That's _puny_."

He nods. "At Ahch-to, your teacher brings around a little ruler to double check."

"People who are eating it won't care, though."

"True. But that's haute cuisine. It's still an art form. As pompous and ridiculous as it sounds, there are rules and expectations. It's what differentiates us cooking here and some soccer mom cooking in her kitchen."

"I guess."

Kylo gives Rey an encouraging pat on the back. "Give it a try. Let me go find my ruler."

She laughs. "Don't say that. You'll make me nervous."

"Don't be. You've got this."

Rey looks like she wants to kiss him. If she does, Kylo honestly just might let her.

He pretends not to be disappointed when she doesn't.

She gets to work, practicing over and over again. Kylo knows she isn't half bad to begin with. Rey just needs some fine-tuning, a little nudge in the right direction. She's a natural, picking up on things much faster than he anticipated. He shows her how to properly due a paysanne fermiere and a rondelle on a bias, and shows her the difference between a fine julienne and a regular julienne. Rey soaks up information like a sponge, her eagerness to learn and improve evident in the way handles her knives.

When she's all finished, she looks up at Kylo with wide eyes. "Well? How'd I do?"

He enjoys the long curl of her lashes, counts the faint freckles across her cheeks, admires the way her hair falls delicately before her brow. He doesn't understand how someone can be so beautiful, so sweet, so-

"Perfect," he answers.

Rey stretches her arms above her head and yawns, content. "Thanks. You're a pretty good teacher."

"And you're a pretty good student."

"Any other pieces of wisdom you want to impart tonight?"

"No, that's enough for tonight. Grab your coat and I'll drive you home."

* * *

He doesn't tell her that he lives almost an hour's drive in the opposite direction because he doesn't like the thought of Rey riding the bus so late. He's sure she's perfectly safe and smart enough to know how to defend herself if ever the need arose, but Kylo finds comfort in escorting her home. In fact, he looks forward to it. The ride may be silent, but it's comfortable. When he's with her, he's at peace.

Kylo pulls up to the curb outside of Rey's apartment building and does a quick scan out the window. He doesn't like that she lives in a particularly unsavory part of town. There doesn't appear to be anybody around, though, so he doesn't have to worry about Rey running into any trouble.

"Hey," she says gently, sheepishly picking at her coat sleeves.

"Hm?"

"Thank you for today. I learned a lot."

"You're welcome."

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Now that we're not at work, can I please-"

Kylo reaches across the center console to take Rey's chin between his thumb and forefinger. He kisses her without hesitation, relieved to find her hungry lips on his.

Rey hastily unfastens her seat belt so that she can lean in further, clutching at his shirt like the ground beneath them is about to crumble from out under her feet. The kiss deepens, devolving into something desperate and needy. Kylo circles her waist and pulls her over, allowing her to climb onto his lap, straddling him between her thighs. There's just enough room for her to fit between his chest and the steering wheel, but it's not like they want much space from each other to begin with.

Their tongues clash in a dizzying give and take. Her fingers wind up combing through his hair while he locks his hands together behind her back. When Rey grinds her hips against him, he knows for a fact that it's deliberate. She grins when she realizes just how hard he is.

"You're a tease," he grumbles, though there isn't any heat behind his statement.

"Sorry?"

"Don't be."

"Do you... Do you want to come inside for a bit?" she asks.

"I... I want to, but..."

"It's okay. I understand."

"I just want to do this right. I don't want to rush."

Rey smiles. "God, Tuesday can't get here fast enough."

He chuckles, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "My thoughts exactly."

Rey kisses him one last time. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart."

She slips off his lap and exits through the passenger-side door, waving goodbye to him when she gets to the front door of the apartment complex. Kylo sits there until he's sure she's safely inside. That, and he needs to calm down a bit because driving with a hard-on is as uncomfortable as it gets.

* * *

When he finally gets back to his apartment, it's cold and dark and unwelcoming. He doesn't spend that much time at home. Most of his hours are taken up at The First Order, so stepping into his apartment feels more like he's stepped into a hotel room.

Impersonal. Generic. Simply a place to lay one's head.

Kylo's dead on his feet. He toes off his shoes at the door and hangs up his jacket before making for the bathroom, thoughts of Rey occupying his mind. Her smell lingers on his clothes. The phantom sensation of her fingers against his scalp remains, a burning warmth against his skin. Kylo licks his lips as he steps into the hot spray of the shower, convinced that Rey's mouth is the key to paradise.

He allows the rush of water to drown out the rest of the world. Closing his eyes, he thinks about Rey's pretty eyes and pouty lips and silky accent. He allows himself to imagine what she might look like -beneath him, on top of him- her soft body pliable in his hands.

His cock throbs, demanding attention. With a sigh, he reaches down to wrap his fingers around his shaft. He's rough on himself, calloused hands hardly resembling that of a lover's. He imagines that it's Rey, instead, her delicate little hands pumping him closer and closer toward release.

Kylo wonders what her pretty mouth would look like wrapped around him, what she'd look like on her knees, rivulets of water pouring over her gorgeous frame. Or maybe he could press her up against the shower wall, slipping his cock easily into her as soap suds slip seamlessly down her breasts and stomach.

He cums hard and fast, barely able to savor his fantasies before the water starts to go cold.

Rey was right.

_Tuesday really can't come fast enough._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Their (attempt at) flirting is going to give me a goddamn toothache.  
> I hope you're all _eating_ this up. (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)
> 
> Also, shout out to @storybookwolf for the suggestion of Rey naming all of her new kitchen tools. I thought that was super cute.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://lovewinonawren.tumblr.com/)! We'll chill out and have a coffee and chat about life.


	17. The Epitome of Calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning to say that Hux is a real dick this chapter and says some very hurtful and manipulative things. Let me know if there are any tags I should add. Take care of yourselves!

Intuition. Clairvoyance. Sixth sense.

Rey can call it whatever she damn well likes, but the result is still the same.

Even before she walks into work, she can tell that something is wrong. She feels tension deep within her core, the kind that makes her want to throw up whilst gasping for a full breath of air. At first, she worries that she's coming down with something -maybe one of those 24-hour bugs that seems to be going around- but then she steps into The First Order and sees Kylo and understands.

She's never seen him quiet this stressed before. He isn't angry or on the brink of erupting. It's far worse than that. It's a quiet panic, one that has his face alarmingly pale, his nostrils flared, his dark eyes staring off into space.

Some of the other chefs are already here, looking to Rey in concern.

"What's going on?" she asks Finn, stepping forward.

"Palpatine's coming," he explains gravely. "Snoke invited him, can you believe that bastard?"

Rey frowns. "Who?"

"You seriously don't know who he is?" Rose asks, a little incredulous. "Sheev Palpatine is one of the bitchiest, nastiest, most up-his-own-ass food critics out there."

Poe shakes his head in dismay. "He _never_ gives a good review. The last restaurant he visited tanked shortly after he published his piece on them. The executive chef there had no choice but to retire because nobody else was willing to hire him afterwards."

"But it's only one review," Rey mumbles. "Surely it can't be that bad."

"Oh, it is. Palpatine's got a stupid amount of pull in the culinary industry. I'm talking connections to food producers, every kind of news outlet... He's been around for a fucking millennia, so he's got his hand in fucking everything. He'll sink your career if he so much as believes you looked at him the wrong way."

Rey scoffs. "That's ridiculous."

She looks to Kylo, who's been silent this whole time. She can tell that he's formulating a plan. He's calculating, considering his options. Even she knows there's no way out of this now. It's not like they can turn the food critic away -because that'd be a one-way ticket to guaranteed closure, especially considering that it was Snoke who invited him- but Kylo doesn't look quite ready to split his focus between running his kitchen and making sure Palpatine has everything he needs.

This is a test.

One that nobody knew was coming.

"Kylo?" Rey says softly. "Tell us what you need."

He chews on the inside of his cheek, deep in concentration. "I need..."

"Anything," Poe adds encouragingly. "Just let us know."

"Yeah," Rose says with a nod. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

"We've got your back," Finn assures. "Just give us the order."

Kylo takes a deep breath, wearing a genuinely appreciative smile. "Rey?"

"Yes, chef?"

"You'll run the line tonight. I'll be here in case anything goes wrong, but I'll be catering to Palpatine personally. The rest of you, business as usual. Give Rey your undivided attention. We clear?"

A chorus of, "Yes, chef!" echoes throughout the kitchen.

"Good. Now, get to work."

Everybody else scurries off, chatting amongst themselves as they prepare for tonight's service. It's going to be a busy one. There are three separate reservations of at least twenty people per party. It's also a Saturday evening, which means The First Order will be packed full of weekend-goers looking for a reprieve from their regular nine-to-fives. If Snoke really did invite Palpatine, then he chose the absolute worst time to do it.

Rey places a hand on Kylo's shoulder. "You've got this," she tells him.

He smiles. _Really_ smiles. "Thank you, Rey."

* * *

Rey's run a kitchen before, just never on this scale and for so long. She's popped in here and there, taking charge whenever necessary, but she's used to Kylo coming back at some point to take back the reigns. Those were little sprints, perfectly manageable in short bursts.

This is a fucking marathon.

Her mind swirls with different table numbers, cook times, special orders that require different ingredients because apparently all of table six suffers from a gluten allergy -what are the odds? But she digs deep and keeps the kitchen running. It's not as smooth and meticulous as Kylo normally does it, but she's holding her own and that's really all that matters.

She's proud of herself, and rightly so. She's come a long way from her toy kitchen where she used to serve her father invisible food. Now she's running one of the toughest, most prestigious kitchens in the world.

_Mom and Dad would be proud._

It's hard for Rey to resist checking in with Kylo as he personally prepares food for Palpatine. She hasn't had the misfortune of meeting the man, but she can tell just by looking at his order that he's a special kind of asshole. He's pretty much ordered every single dish off the menu, demanding all manner of substitutions and additions to each meal. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear Palpatine was making things overly complicated for the sole purpose of messing Kylo up.

He doesn't, though, because he's a fucking genius. Kylo sends out plate after gorgeous plate out to be served, piping hot and delicious.

From where she is at the front of the line, Rey can just barely see through the circular window of the kitchen doors leading out into the dining room. The back section is mostly empty -at Palpatine's request- so it's easy for her to spot the food critic in question.

The man looks, as impossible as it may seem, even scarier than Snoke. One look at the man is enough to send a chill down Rey's spine. He certainly looks the part of a food critic, dressed to the nines and sporting a cravat of all things. Rey wonders if she'll turn to stone if she accidentally makes direct eye contact with the man. She doesn't have too much time to worry about it, though, because another chit prints and she has to return her focus to more important matters.

 _Kylo's counting on me_.

"Can someone grab me the extra cilantro from the walk-in?" he calls out, too focused on his salad arrangement to do it himself.

"I'll get it," Hux calls back.

Rey frowns.

She wouldn't bat an eye if any of the other chefs volunteered, but _Hux_? She's not naïve enough to believe he's doing it because he's a good sport.

_Something's up._

"Hey, Poe?"

"What's up, chef?"

"Can you man the line for two seconds? I need to check on something."

"Sure thing."

Rey stalks to the walk-in and shuts the door behind her, effectively trapping Hux inside. She's caught him standing in between two of the produce shelves, one hand holding onto the cilantro in question, while the other is about to dump an entire handful of salt on top of the garnish.

It's an act of sabotage.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hisses. "The hell is the matter with you?"

"Get the fuck out of here," he snipes.

"You're not getting away with this."

Hux takes a step forward. He's not that much bigger than Rey, but having someone suddenly in your face is still very alarming. Hux looks vitriolic, the vein at his temple pulsing with rage. "What the fuck are you going to do about it, hm?" he growls. "You going to report me?"

"As a matter of fact, I will."

Hux scoffs. "Figures you'd go running to him. There's nothing Ren wouldn't do for his little _whore_."

Before she even has the chance to process what's been said, her hand shoots up. She swings, dead-set on slapping Hux from here to the other coast. He snatches her wrist and digs his nails into her skin, hard enough to bruise. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

"What? Did you just try to hit me? That's assault, Rey. I could report you to Snoke and have you fired."

"Wha-"

"Or maybe I'll tell him that you're a filthy fucking liar."

Rey freezes. "What are you talking about?"

"Did you seriously think I wouldn't figure it out? I've been doing some digging around. Nobody seems to know who the fuck you are. I waited for years for the chance to work at The First Order. I studied under countless chefs to earn my place here. But you? Who have you trained with, hm?"

"I, uh-"

"Nobody, that's who. Because you're an untrained fucking fry cook who scammed her way into _my_ job. You're a fucking imposter who doesn't deserve to be here."

"Let go of me. Let go of me right now!"

Hux's grip tightens that much more. Rey tries to jerk away, but his hold is absolute.

"The fancy job, the new knives, the private rides home... You've got Ren wrapped around your pretty little finger, don't you? Let's be honest. The only reason you're sous chef is because you let him do whatever he wants to you."

"I don't-"

"Does he take you back to his place after work? Do you get on all fours and spread your legs for him like the slut you are?"

"Take that back."

"Or what? Say one goddamn thing and I'll expose you to Snoke. And then not even Ren can do anything to protect his favorite little play thing."

Rey can't breathe. All she wants to do is strike Hux across the face. She wants to knee him in the groin, and hard. 

But she can't. Violence, as much as she wants to claw Hux's eyes out, isn't the answer. In fact, it could make things so much worse. Not just for her, but for Kylo. The last thing she wants is to cause more trouble for him. He's already dealing with so much. She can't afford to lose her temper and become a burden to him.

She takes a deep breath and stares Hux straight in the eye.

This simply won't stand.

"You are a sad, pathetic little man," she says, the epitome of calm. "You can say whatever you want about me, but none of it's true. You just can't stand the fact that your career is stagnant and you don't have enough talent to climb your way up on your own. If calling me names and threatening me makes you feel like more of a man, fine. Knock yourself out."

Rey yanks her hand away and jabs her forefinger against his chest hard enough that it makes him wince. "You have a problem with me? You tell me. I'll cook circles around you, you snake. You think you can get away with it because I look like an easy target? I've got news for you, asshole, I've got a lot more fight in me than it looks. But don't for a second think you can get away with dragging Kylo's name through the mud. He's twice the man you will ever hope to be. You're nothing but a little boy throwing a tantrum. So go ahead, do your fucking worst. Just don't be surprised when karma comes around to bite you in the ass."

"You little bi-"

The door to the walk-in swings open rapidly, sucking out all of the cool fridge air in one gust.

"Hux," Kylo barks, irritated. "Where the fuck is the- Rey? What's going on here?"

Rey swallows, willing her racing heart to calm down. "Nothing."

Kylo doesn't believe it for a second. " _Rey_."

"Don't use the cilantro," she warns him before walking past him.

When they get through service without a hitch, Rey knows it's because she's just that fucking good.

Hux goes home early. His absence is a blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Protective!Rey is my sexuality. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.


	18. Floating Island

If Rey's distressed, she does a very good job of putting on a brave face.

Kylo isn't sure what happened, but he _is_ sure that he wants to beat Hux's sniveling face into a pulp.

Unfortunately, he doesn't get to because the redhead storms out of the kitchen before Kylo gets a chance to figure out what's going on. To make matters that much more complicated, he still has Palpatine to attend to. He can't afford to let Hux split his focus.

Kylo plates dessert, the final dish of the evening. He honestly can't remember the last time he's worked with this level of sweat-inducing attention to detail. He prepares the floating island, freshly whipped meringue floating in a crème anglaise topped with a dome casing of caramel he made from scratch. It might seem like a simple dish, but any number of things can go wrong.

If you don't whip the egg whites enough, they won't peak. If you add too much sugar, the whole thing becomes unbearably sweet. Producing the caramel is -in Kylo's opinion- a test of his patience because you need to get the temperature just right, add the right amount of butter, and kill the heat before you've got a burnt mess on your hands and ruined a perfectly good pot.

He wipes the sweat from his brow and removes his apron before picking the plate up. It's a good idea for the head chef to meet with a critic face-to-face, at least once, as a show of hospitality. Kylo fucking hates this sort of thing, but what else can he do?

He picks up his plate and starts toward the kitchen doors, but Poe stops him before he manages two steps.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, chef. Hold up a minute."

"What?"

Poe unties Kylo's dirty apron and replaces it with a fresh one. "Don't want him to think you're a slob, do we?"

Rose pops over with a mildly damp cloth and wipes at a small patch of his chef jacket where there's a bit of sugar powder. "Can't give Palpatine any more ammunition than he needs, right?"

Finn comes up from behind and massages Kylo's shoulders. "You've got this, mate. Totally, totally got this."

A few weeks ago, Kylo would have told them all to piss right the hell off. He hates it when people are up in his personal space. It's uncomfortable and awkward and he feels like he can't breathe when crowded. And the fact that they're touching him so casually? Fuck no. Definite no. Kylo _hates_ being touched.

But he isn't as angry as he thought he'd. Much to his surprise, he actually finds a small sense of comfort. Because these people are his... friends.

Yes, his friends.

They're not Snoke.

They don't want anything from him. They just want to help.

And Rey?

She's the cherry on top.

Rey approaches and very casually brushes a strand of his hair away from his eyes. Everyone else is so preoccupied with primping him that they don't notice. It's almost intimate, her fingers gingerly grazing past his temple. Only he knows how her fingers feel gently scraping across his scalp. Only he knows what the look in her eye means. Rey doesn't even have to speak. He can tell what she's thinking off her smile alone.

_Make us proud, chef._

He nods once, the silent conversation passing between them.

_I won't let you down._

Kylo takes one more deep breath before stepping through the kitchen doors, dessert in hand.

Palpatine looks perfectly harmless at a distance. In passing, Kylo could easily mistake him with any number of generic-looking old men. His hair is white, his brow is crinkled, his fashion sense appears to have frozen in the '20's.

The 1920's, that is.

_Who the fuck wears a cravat in this day and age?_

Up close, though, it's a different story. Kylo thinks the AC in the back section of the restaurant must be busted or something because he swears the air drops several degrees the closer he gets to the table. Palpatine quickly goes from a harmless old geezer eating alone to something far more sinister. In reality, he's every chef's nightmare.

A food critic.

A _pompous_ food critic.

Palpatine looks up and smiles. It's not a friendly smile. If anything, it's predatory -intended to lull his prey in until it's too little, too late.

"Ah, you must be Snoke's boy," Palpatine says. The scratchy quality of his voice makes Kylo's skin crawl. "I've heard so much about you. And from my fellow colleagues, of course. There's not a critic out there with a complaint about your food."

"Thank y-"

"I, however, hold myself in much higher regard.”

”Wha-“

“The fois gras was too salty," he says, launching straight to it. "The wine your waiter suggested was abysmal. A red wine with fish? I recommend your waitstaff under go some sommelier training."

Kylo simply nods, because what the fuck else is he supposed to do? He doesn't understand why Palpatine's just now bringing up these issues. Kylo could have had everything remedied at the drop of the hat.

No, he knows why Palpatine's doing this. The dickhead is trying to throw him off, rile him up. It's a fucking power trip that Palpatine very clearly enjoys. It makes Kylo wonder what kind of sad, miserable life the man leads behind closed doors. If terrifying chefs is the only way he can get his rocks off, the poor fucker must be a pitiful thing.

He continues his little spiel. "Your escargot was much too oily. Your lobster was under seasoned. Have you come now to disappointment with my floating island?"

Kylo places the plate down on the table. He's tempted to throw it right at the old bastard's face, but he somehow manages to keep his cool. He knows Rey and the others are only a few feet away, waiting with bated breath. He can't possibly let his temper get to him now.

That doesn't stop him from imagining it, though.

Palpatine picks up a clean spoon and makes a show of polishing it with his cloth napkin. Kylo knows for a fact that the silverware is spotless, polished twice specifically for the critic's arrival. Everything this man is doing is bullshit. Everything he's _said_ is bullshit.

There was nothing wrong with the food. They were works of art. Kylo wouldn't have sent them out, otherwise.

Kylo wants so badly to tell him he's full of it.

He watches as Palpatine finally takes a bite of dessert. There's no considerable reaction. No twitch of the brow or purse of the lips. If Kylo thought Snoke was hard to read, Palpatine is twice as hard to discern -plus three times as much of a douchebag.

"How is it?" Kylo asks.

"Passable."

Fuck it. At this point, Kylo's willing to take whatever barely-there-compliment he can get, just so the man will finally shut up and get the fuck out of his restaurant.

Palpatine finishes off dessert -which Kylo takes as a good sign- before dabbing his lips delicately with the corner of his napkin. He extends a hand, gesturing to the seat opposite him. "Please."

"I'd rather stand. But thank you."

Palpatine gives Kylo a once over and smirks. "Snoke was right about you."

"Right about what?"

He rises, adjusting his cravat. "That you're losing your touch."

Kylo clenches his fists, fighting the urge to implode. If sending Palpatine here was some kind of ploy by Snoke to send him into a tailspin, it's on the verge of working. Snoke didn't have to send a food critic to tell him his performance as of late was less than impressive. Kylo's reflective enough to recognize his own dissatisfaction.

No, this is just Snoke's way of adding salt to an already festering wound -one that Kylo's been trying to ignore for ages.

He doesn't love food anymore.

His passion is gone.

All of the pomp and circumstance, the hoity-toity clientele, the high expectations, the boss constantly breathing down his neck, the predictability of it all, the boring day in and day out, the constant complaints and need to micromanage and dealing with shitty employees and not getting enough sleep and-

_Fuck._

He wants to quit.

But if he does, what the fuck else is he supposed to do?

Palpatine nods respectfully. "You have yourself a good evening, chef. I hope you look forward to my review."

He leaves without another word, leaving Kylo to stew in his own silence.

* * *

"How did it go?" Rey asks when he gets back to the kitchen.

His chest constricts, the trapped air in his throat burning a hole through him. Everyone's staring at him, expectant. His shoulders are heavy and his head aches. Worst of all, Rey looks so damn _hopeful_ that he can't bare to tell her the truth.

He just can't.

 _She needs this job._ _She needs the money so she can find her parents._

 _Go on._ _Tell her you fucked up and Palpatine's out for blood_ _._

_Tell her she might not have a job soon._

_It's all your fucking fault, you dumb fucking piece of-_

"It was great," he lies between gritted teeth.

Rey sighs and smiles wide. "Thank goodness."

Poe claps. "Fuck yeah. I knew you'd pull through for us."

"Feel like coming out for celebratory beers?" Finn inquires.

"I'm kind of tired, actually."

"Totally understandable," Rose says with a nod. "We'll clean up quickly so you can go home and relax."

"Thanks for coming through for me," Kylo notes. "For taking care of the kitchen. It would have been impossible without your guys' help."

"Of course," Rey replies. "We're a team, aren't we?"

His smile is tight, the weight of his guilty churning in his stomach. "Yeah."

* * *

Kylo sinks into the driver's seat, suddenly realizing how bone-tired he is. His feet hurt from standing all day. The skin between his fingers are itchy and dry from constant washing. His head feels so heavy that he's worried his neck is about to snap. All he wants now is to go home and curl up in bed.

And maybe have Rey curl up with him.

He relaxes almost immediately when Rey slips into the passenger seat. She hasn't even slipped on her seatbelt before he's cupped her face and moves in for a bruising kiss.

He finds solace in the way she groans against him. He discovers heaven in the way she kisses him back, just as passionately.

Rey giggles when she finally pulls away. She brushes some of his hair out of his eyes and asks, "Everything alright?"

"Long fucking day."

"Seconded."

"Thank you. For your hard work. You're incredible."

She shrugs. "I do my best," she teases.

Kylo chuckles. "Let's get you home."

He already has the drive back to her place memorized. The traffic is nice and light, nothing but the golden glow of streetlamps and the rush of wind over the hood of the car to keep them company. He's comfortable, he realizes, just to be this close to her. It surprises how simple it all is, being with Rey. Kylo could drive for hours and be perfectly content so long as he can turn to find her there.

"So," he says slowly, sorting through the tumultuous thoughts clogging his brain.

"So," she echoes.

"What happened? With Hux."

She shakes her head, not in the mood to speak.

"Rey. Don't think I've forgotten."

There's a long, heavy pause between them. She picks at her fingernails, gathering up the courage to speak.

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid," Rey replies quietly.

"Rey-"

" _Promise_ me."

"Fine. I promise not to do anything stupid. Now tell me what the fuck Hux did to you."

"He called me a whore."

Kylo slams on the brakes, tires screeching to a halt. "He fucking _what?_ "

The car behind them in traffic has to swerve to avoid crashing. The driver lays on the horn and flips Kylo off as he makes a hasty lane change to avoid collision. Kylo doesn't give two shits.

"I took care of it," she insists hastily.

"You should have told me immediately."

"You had more important things to worry about."

"What's more important than y-" He cuts himself off. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to break his fucking face in and then I'm going to kill him."

She places her hand on his arm. "Don't."

"He can't talk to you like that. It's insubordination. It's sexist. It's-"

Another car passes them in a hurry, honking wildly.

"I know."

"What exactly did he say to you?"

Rey casts her eyes down to the car floor. "I don't remember. Can we please just- Can we just go, please? We're going to get in trouble if we just sit in the lane like this."

"What. Did. He. Say?"

She swallows. "He... He said that I have you wrapped around my finger. That I'm your sous chef because..."

"What?" And then, so much softer, " _W_ _hat_?"

"Because I'm your favorite play thing. That I spread my legs for you like a slut."

Something inside him snaps. Kylo's been holding back his rage for so long that he'd started to go numb. Kylo's heart is pounding a mile a minute. This is officially too much for him to handle. Between Snoke and then Palpatine and now Hux... He's sure he might die at an early age due to stress.

The corners of Rey's eyes turn red with the threat of tears. "But it's not true. I worked... I worked really hard to get here."

"I know, I know."

Another car whizzes by, this time the driver rolling down the window to scream profanities at their stalled car. Kylo knows they have to move. This isn't safe.

It's also not safe to drive when he's on the brink of a mental breakdown because _how fucking dare Hux treat Rey that way._

His mind's already made up.

Hux has to go.

Kylo finds the strength, and -by some miracle- the control he needs to get Rey the rest of the way home without accidentally running any lights because all he sees is red. He parks by the curb, as always, and kisses Rey tenderly before she gets out. She gets out of the car and dips down, looking him in the eye.

"Don't do anything dumb," she reminds. "You promised. We'll... We can deal with it tomorrow."

" _I'll_ deal with it tomorrow. You have Sunday and Monday off, remember?"

"Still, I-"

"I promise, Rey. Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

"But-"

"You just go home. You relax. You forget everything he said because none of it's true, you hear me?"

She nods slowly. "Okay."

"You're the most talented chef I know, so Hux's opinion means jack shit."

"Okay."

"Feel free to call or text me if you need anything, alright? Anything at all. I promise I'll answer."

"Alright." She manages a small smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

Kylo doesn't drive away until after Rey's safely inside. He sits there for a minute, maybe two, collecting himself.

He's never felt like this before.

Insulted. Furious. Blood-thirsty.

What he wants is to drive over to Hux's place and beat the crap out of him. No. That's still not enough. Kylo wants to beat him and then have Hux groveling for forgiveness at Rey's feet. _Nobody_ gets away with treating his girl like-

His girl.

_Rey._

Kylo lets out a shaky breath.

She's right. Violence isn't the answer. It isn’t _good enough._

What he's planning is far, far worse.

Kylo pulls out his phone and makes several calls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Protective!Ben is also my sexuality. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.
> 
> Sorry it took me longer than expected to get this chapter out. I had an audition I had to focus on, and it took up more of my time than I thought it would. Please feel free to leave a comment! I read and adore every single one. <3


	19. The Aquarium [NSFW]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Buckle up, kids! I gift y'all with fluff and horniness. Mind the tags!

She gets the text just before noon on Sunday.

_[Kylo] Thinking of you._

Rey rolls over in bed and smiles at her phone, reading his words over and over and over again with the giddiness of a school girl. Her thumbs fly over the screen, drafting up a response.

_[Rey] New phone, who dis?_

Not two seconds later:

_[Kylo] It's me. Kylo?_

She laughs aloud.

_[Rey] I was just teasing you, dummy. (｡◕‿◕｡)_

_[Kylo] You really know how to give a man a heart attack, huh?_

_[Rey] lol nooooo don't die_

_[Kylo] Too late._

_[Rey] I'll send help!_

He sends a gif of a black lab puppy falling off a couch in a dramatic fashion, _#dead_ flashing in bright white font at the base of the image.

Rey smiles so hard her cheeks hurt. She can't even say that she minds.

_[Rey] So cute!_

_[Kylo] Me, or the dog?_

_[Rey] You know the answer._

_[Kylo] It's the dog. Don't worry, I won't take it personally._

She finally sits up in bed, nibbling at her bottom lip. She can't believe how much she actually misses him. It's been less than twelve hours since they parted ways, but deep down, she yearns to see him again. Like it's been weeks or years instead of half a day.

Rey smiles to herself.

She might really be falling in-

_[Kylo] Sorry, have to go. Service soon._

She doesn't want their conversation to end, but she understands nonetheless.

_[Rey] Have a good shift!_

He sends another gif, this time of a little pug who's somehow got his bottom half stuck in a toilet bowl. Rey doesn't necessarily understand the message he's trying to convey, but it doesn't matter. It makes feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

She eventually finds the strength to pull herself out of bed. She really does have to start her day.

She may or may not spend the whole time thinking about a certain someone with inky black hair.

* * *

Rey visits the clinic on Monday. She's never particularly liked visiting the doctors -what with her fear of needles and whatnot- but Doctor Amilyn Holdo is the epitome of a caring. Rey's always thought the woman was pretty cool. After all, how many doctors deliberately dye their hair pink like that?

"There," Holdo says. "You're all set. I should have the results to you by this evening."

"So soon?"

"I run the lab work downstairs, so we don't have to worry about long queues." Holdo tosses Rey a cheeky wink. "Besides, I get the feeling you want to know sooner rather than later?"

Rey's suddenly aware of how warm her face is. "I, uh... Well, yeah. Thanks."

Holdo chuckles. "Who's the lucky someone?"

"Just a guy," Rey answers, unable to stop herself from smiling because Kylo isn't _just a guy_ to her. "I work with him."

"Are things pretty serious?"

"Getting there, I think."

Holdo smiles warmly. "Well, even if your results do come back clean, I would still like to encourage you to be safe. Have you thought much about contraceptives?"

"I used to be on birth control, but that was a few years ago. I'd been seeing this other guy, but I stopped once we broke up."

"Are you interested on going on the pill again?"

"Maybe. The stuff I was on made me feel awful. I'm a bit wary."

"Perfectly understandable. The pill isn't exactly a one size fits all." Holdo quickly walks over to her desk and opens up a drawer, plucking an informational pamphlet from within. She hands it to Rey. "Look this over and let me know if anything interests you. Condoms are the most convenient and inexpensive option, but they aren't guaranteed to work one hundred percent of the time. None of them are, really, but it should suffice for now."

Rey smiles. "Thanks, doc."

"I'll give you a call later when the results are in."

With that, Rey hops off the exam table and leaves.

She walks home, taking the opportunity to soak up some sunshine. It's a gorgeous day out, and tomorrow's forecast is promising to be even more beautiful. She passes by several small boutiques, paying the majority of them know mind. Rey's never been the kind of person to mindlessly window shop. She has much more important things to deal with than staring longingly at things she won't allow herself to afford.

That is, until she spots a dress in the window of the clothing stores.

It's pretty. Prettier than anything Rey owns, at least. That really isn't saying much because her closet is abysmal to begin with, hardly anything worth gushing over. She's never been a clothes type of girl. The nicest thing she owns is her black chef jacket, and that had been a very generous ' _business expense_.'

She continues to stare, the delicate lace bodice flowing into the rest of the sundress. The capped sleeves would look cute on her. She could throw on the jean jacket she's stuffed somewhere at the back of her closet and pair it with some sensible flats. She wonders what Kylo would think if she showed up for their date in this little number.

_It'd make him wild._

But then she looks a bit closer at the price tag pinned to the side and deflates.

"Sixty bucks?" she mumbles to herself, incredulous. "What the hell is it made of?"

It's a lot for one article of clothing, and Rey simply can't justify the purchase. If she comes at it at a cost-per-use mentality, it's just not worth it. Sure, payday was Friday and she has more than enough in her account, but those sixty dollars should really be going towards hiring Maz Kanata. She's sure that Kylo won't care in the slightest what she chooses to wear.

Except, _she_ cares.

Rey wants to look good. Not just for him, but for herself. She wants to dress up and treat herself and feel confident. She wants to feel like a million bucks tomorrow.

But the pang of guilt in her chest keeps her from stepping inside the store. She needs this money. For her parents. She's so close to her goal that she can taste it. If she starts spending money on frivolous things, it'll feel like she's cheating. Like she's deciding that her parents aren't as important. That her own fleeting desires are more important than finding her family. How is she supposed to enjoy something that will only serve as a bitter reminder?

She could be sixty dollars closer to hiring a PI.

Or she can buy a pretty dress for the sake of one day, one momentary lapse in resolve.

She eventually finds the strength to walk away.

 _Maybe next time_.

It's just a shame that Rey has no idea when ' _next time_ ' might be.

When Rey gets home, her phone rings. It's the number from Doctor Holdo's office.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Rey," the doctor greets. "Is this a good time?"

"Of course."

"Good. I just wanted to give you a call and let you know I got your test results back."

"Wow, that really was fast."

"I know, right? I get the feeling the technicians at the lab like me."

"So... How does everything look?"

"You're totally clean," the doctor informs.

Rey breathes a sigh of relief. "Thanks, doc."

"Have a good day."

"Yeah, you too."

When Rey hangs up, she feels instantly lighter.

* * *

She wakes up the next morning practically buzzing with excitement.

_It's Tuesday!_

Rey can't remember the last time she was this excited to go out on a date. An _official_ date. Inviting Kylo to trivia night wasn't going to count because the rest of the gang was there, and their trip to the knife shop was out of necessity, and she wasn't entirely sure how to categorize all the times Kylo has literally cooked her lunch before work. Surely he'd done that out of a professional concern.

So, yes. In her books, today is an official date and she can hardly wait to get started.

She has to keep herself from skipping on her way out the building. It becomes a next to impossible task when she sees Kylo's car already pulled up to the curb, the man patiently leaning against the side of his vehicle.

He looks _delicious_. Kylo's in all black -because of course he is- from his jeans to the conforming sweater he has on. There's an ease to him, though, one that she rarely gets to see when they're both in the kitchen. He breaks out into a charming, slightly crooked smile the second he lays eyes on her.

It makes her melt a little.

_He only smiles like that around me._

"Hey," she greets, for some reason feeling a million times shyer. She chalks it up to nerves.

"Hey yourself," he replies dipping down to kiss her. It's so sweet it almost gives Rey a toothache. "You look beautiful."

Rey catches a glimpse of herself in the passenger-side window. She would have looked utterly darling in the dress she saw the other day, but settled for a pair of comfortable white skinny jeans, her old Jedi Knights band tee tied back with an elastic, and her cleanest pair of Nike sneakers. She's comfortable. She feels _good_. In the end, she supposes that's all that really matters.

And if Kylo thinks she's beautiful, that just makes everything so much better.

"You excited?" she asks him.

"To stare at sushi? Of course."

Rey rolls her eyes, but has a hard time keep a straight face. "Don't be such a party pooper. Come on. It's going to be so much fun!"

He chuckles. "Alright, alright. Hop on in."

* * *

The aquarium is as busy as one would expect for a Tuesday, which is to say not at all.

Rey doesn't mind, though. This means there are no lines or busy crowds to worry about.

And when she reaches over to take Kylo's hand, he isn't as inclined to shy away. He holds onto her firmly, almost proudly, willingly allowing himself to be dragged from display to display by his girl.

She can't remember the last time she felt this carefree. This light and easy. And being with him... Being with him leaves her absurdly warm and fuzzy all over.

They visit the jellyfish, the dolphins, the little tide pool area where kids can gently -emphasis on _gently_ \- pet things like starfish and minnows. It's at the otter exhibit that Rey takes pause.

The habitat is lush with plants and crystal clear water. At the center, floating about peacefully on its back, is a singular otter with light hazel fur. Its paws and tail are tucked in upon its fluffy stomach.

"This is Kira," one of the nearby caretakers introduces.

"She's adorable," Rey replies.

"Where are the others?" Kylo asks.

The caretaker smiles sadly. "We normally have five other otters in here with her. Her partner used to be here, but he unfortunately passed a few months ago. She's become quite aggressive toward the other otters, so we've had to separate them for a while."

Rey frowns, watching the animal pitifully. The pang of something uncomfortable stings her chest. Kira looks so... _lonely_.

She, too, knows what it feels like to be alone.

She knows what it's like to wait. For years and years and years. Never knowing, but always hoping. Maybe if she's good, maybe if she's patient, she'll finally find the answers she's been looking for. But perhaps the truth scares her, too. Just a little. It's only natural that the doubts would creep in.

What if her parents left her behind?

What if they're dead?

 _What if_ -

Kylo gives her fingers a quick squeeze. "You daydreaming?" he teases.

She smiles up at him, squeezing his fingers back. "Just thinking about lunch. Hungry?"

He nods, once again allowing Rey to drag him off toward the sea-themed food court area located near the front of the aquarium. It's nothing fancy. There's a burger joint, a pizza stall, even a small Panda Express. Hardly haute cuisine, but Rey doesn't care. As long as it's delicious and edible, she'll never have any complaints about food. Kylo pays for the both of them without prompting.

They find a seat at an empty table a few feet away from a massive fish tank.

"Can't believe you got a fish burger," Rey says with a chuckle.

Kylo shrugs. "It was the only thing that looked remotely appetizing."

She rolls her eyes. "You and your high standards."

"Nothing wrong with having high standards, sweetheart."

"But what about the fish?"

"What _about_ the fish?"

Rey gestures toward the tank. "Eating that in front of them... That's morbid."

He takes a deliberately large bite. With a full mouth he mumbles, "Oops."

The smallest bit of mayo catches on the corner of his lip. Rey, suddenly emboldened, leans forward to kiss it away. She holds his gaze, relishing the deep, dark burn she sees in him. Rey licks her lip, more than happy to tease.

"Behave," he says, voice suddenly dropping an entire octave into a delectable grumble. "There are children around."

Rey smirks and kisses him again, lightly sucking on his bottom lip. "Oops," she mimics.

"Be good."

"I'm an angel. What ever could you mean?" Rey leans forward, placing a hand on his knee. Her fingers itch to explore, but settle for grazing up the top of his thigh and stopping just shy of his front.

"You're playing a very dangerous game right now."

"Dangerous? How so?"

He places his food down and leans forward, too, his lips brushing past her ear to whisper, "Does teasing me in public like this turn you on?" His breath is warm against her cheek. It sends a shiver down her spine and fills her chest with a courage she's never experienced before.

"What if it does?" she asks, a challenge.

"Never took you for someone so naughty."

"Looks can be deceiving."

"Ah, such a fucking smart mouth."

"Face it, you love my smart mouth."

"You think you have me all figured out, huh?"

"I do."

Kylo grins. "You really don't."

"No?"

"If you know me so well, tell me what I'm thinking about right now."

Her breath hitches in her throat. "You-"

"Tell me what you think I want to do to you. If you guess right, maybe we'll make it happen."

Rey's face fills with heat, her heart pounding in her chest. Her brain is about to melt. There are so many possibilities, so many scenarios. But one look from him and she's a goner. Her tongue is a twisted knot. The fire pooling in the pit of her stomach has her unravelling at the seams. Kylo just might have broken her.

Kylo can sense her struggle and chuckles, tenderly kissing her cheek. "What are you being so shy for? Come on, sweetheart. Venture a guess."

"What if I guess wrong?"

"I doubt you will." He presses his forehead against hers, the tips of their noses bumping up against one another. "Say it," he whispers against her lips. "Say it."

"I think..." Rey takes a deep, but shaky breath. "I think you want to fuck me."

"Go on."

She looks deep into his eyes and reads him like a book. "I think you want to fuck me hard. And then soft. All night, and then all morning. On my back. On my knees. You want to taste me. You want me to taste you."

"And I think you want me to make you beg," he says, still soft and only loud enough for her alone to hear. "You want to be taken against a wall. In my bed. On the fucking floor. You want me to make you tremble. You want to be fucked so good your voice gives out. You want to feel sore in the morning. Isn't that right, Rey?"

"Yes," she gasps, the word bubbling past her lips without a second thought.

Kylo kisses her once, like a promise. "I'm kind of bored of staring at fish." 

"Me, too."

"Then let's get the fuck out of here."

Rey has never agreed to anything faster in her entire life.

* * *

There's simultaneously too much time and not enough of it. The drive back to his place is obscenely long. The need to have his lips on hers is ever-present, an addiction she can't shake. They're in a rush, but they're also in the mood to slow down and savor. It leaves Rey in a delirious state of mind, wanting too much and getting too little.

He all but carries her up to his apartment after he parks the Audi in the building's basement garage. Rey wants to comment that this place is super fancy. Security gate, a doorman, and even assigned parking stalls? To her, that's pique luxury. She doesn't get much of a chance to speak, however, because the second he has his arms wrapped around her, they're mouths are too preoccupied with one another to get a syllable out.

Rey all but whines when Kylo has to set her down to fish his keys out of his pocket to unlock the front door. The second they're through-

It's a beautiful kind of chaos.

He pins her easily against the back of the door, mouthing hungrily at her neck. He sucks hard enough to leave marks. Rey doesn't care. In fact, she wants more. She clings to him, tugs at his hair, wraps her legs around his hips as he easily supports both of their weight. Her skin is on fire, but she wants to feel so much warmer.

Kylo carries her over to the kitchen, setting her down on the kitchen island's marble surface. It's cold, but she's so enthralled in the task of lifting off his sweater to give much notice. The offending garment is tossed to the floor, forgotten.

He's a fucking _wall_. Hard, solid, sturdy. Rey drags her fingers down his toned chest and defined abs, licking her lips as she eyes the large bulge in the front of his jeans.

"You have a very lovely home," she says, voice dripping with desperation.

"Care for a tour?" he asks, though it's very clear his interests lie elsewhere.

Rey shakes her head. "Later?"

"Later," he agrees, moving in to devour her mouth once more.

There's nothing quite like his hands. Rey realizes just how much she adores them when his fingers slip beneath her shirt and hold her firmly at the waist. It's almost a relief when he finally takes her shirt off, exposing the white lace bralette she has on underneath.

"Fuck," he hisses against collarbone.

"What?"

"I really want to ruin you."

Rey bites her lip. "Then what are you waiting for?"

He hums, content, nibbling at her pebbled nipples through the delicate fabric. He reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, the lace slipping away easily to expose her. Kylo grabs at her small breasts, easily covering her with his massive hands. Rey shivers, both amused and aroused at how small and protected he makes her feel.

He leaves a line of kisses from her breasts down her stomach, marking her as he works his way down to her jeans. It's a wonder to watch his skilled fingers undo the front of her pants before tugging them off with great haste. All that remains is her matching white lace thong, one that leaves little to the imagination.

Kylo growls. "You're really going to kill me, you know that?"

"Sorry," she replies, breathless.

"Don't be," he mumbles, moving in to lick at her mound through the fabric.

Pleasure spears through her in a massive shock wave, the warmth of his tongue seeping through the lace. The throbbing wetness between her legs grows more and more unbearable with every second. But Kylo takes his time, mouthing at her through her thong with slow and controlled determination.

It's torturous.

It's heaven.

"Take it off," she commands, barely recognizing the sound of her own voice. "Take it-"

"Be patient."

Rey whines. "But I want-"

"I know."

"Please-"

"I told you. I want to _ruin_ you."

Rey groans, lightheaded and babbling nonsense. It's enough to make her toes curl. She's sure she sounds pathetic, panting and mewling like a bitch in heat. She doesn't care. Neither does he. In fact, it's very obvious how much he's enjoying all this. He brings a hand up to graze his fingers up her inner thigh, slowly creeping toward her welcoming entrance.

"I want to see you around my fingers," he says. "Is that alright with you?"

"Fuck yes. Please hurry, I need-"

"What do you need, sweetheart?"

"You. Inside me."

He finally - _finally_ \- pulls her thong off, tossing it over his shoulder to be abandoned on the floor somewhere. Kylo takes a deep breath, admiring Rey in full. He doesn't waste time with compliments. Their combined need is too great to delay any longer.

He presses a finger against her wet entrance, dipping down to tease her clit with a quick swipe of his tongue. An sharp gasp escapes her throat as electricity jolts through her, the intense heat in her stomach growing more and more intense. He draws tight circles with the tip of his tongue as he presses a single finger into her.

Rey moans at the stretch. It's nothing she can't handle, and her slick desire makes it easy to adjust. He inserts a second, this time curling at his thick knuckle to sweep over her sweet spot. Rey's hips buck involuntarily, desperation mounting.

"Oh, _God_ ," she pants, reaching down between her legs to comb her fingers through his hair. "Right there, baby. _Fuck_."

It's almost too much. She's dizzy, overwhelmed by his touch and tongue. He seems to know exactly what she needs and how she likes it, impossibly accurate and relentless in pursuit of her release. The hot coil within her grows tighter and tighter, threatening to explode.

And then it does, a bright wave of pleasure sweeping over her. She drowns in it, moaning languidly as she closes her eyes and enjoys the high. Her chest heaves, rapid breaths matching the rhythm of her heart. A sudden, satisfying exhaustion hits her soon after. Every inch of her body is soft fire, satiation evident in the way she strokes his hair.

Kylo licks his lips, looking understandably smug. "I'm not done with you yet," he says, lifting her with ease. Rey instinctively wraps her arms and legs around him, kissing him slowly as he takes them both down a long hall.

His bedroom is cooler than the rest of the apartment. Rey uses it as an excuse to cling to him for warmth. Their lips find each other like magnets, only every parting when they're both in need of air. She stands at the edge of the bed, reaching down to palm at Kylo's hard cock.

"Your turn," she says, dropping to her knees.

"Rey-"

"I've been thinking about this," she mumbles, slowly undoing his belt and dragging down the zipper. She hooks her fingers over the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pulling his clothes free.

Her eyes widen as his cock springs free. Nothing could have prepared her for the sheer size of it. It's big, just like the rest of him, but it's still a surprise. The tip is an angry red and leaking with want, the shaft thick and dauntingly long. "Fuck, you're massive," she mutters to herself.

Kylo chuckles, carding his fingers through her hair. "It's not that big. You're just tiny."

"May I?"

"Anything for you, sweetheart."

Rey starts with a lick across the head of his cock, testing the waters. He tastes a bit salty, but she doesn't mind in the slightest. After a while, she gets used to the taste that's uniquely _him_. She wraps her lips around the head of his cock and swirls her tongue around, delighting in the chesty groan she earns from him.

His grip on her hair tightens. Not enough to hurt, but certainly enough to keep control. "Your fucking _mouth_ ," he mutters. "Fuck, Rey. Show me what you can do."

She complies, hollowing her cheeks to suck him down inch by careful inch. He's too big to take all the way, but she does her best. What she can't take into her mouth, she uses her fingers to wrap around her shaft. She pumps him slowly, working in tandem with her mouth to push him closer and closer to the edge.

"You feel fucking amazing, Rey. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. Love how you look on your knees."

Rey closes her eyes and enjoys herself, bobbing her head back and forth and sucking in earnest, listening to the litany of filth spilling from his mouth.

"Fuck, Rey, I-" Kylo hisses. "Get up."

She releases him with a wet pop. "But I'm not done playing with you yet."

"We've got all night, sweetheart, but I want you _now_."

When he offers her his hand, she takes it, rising up from off her knees. He guides her to the bed and has her lie down, the cool sheets a welcome sensation against her sensitive skin. Rey lies on her back, head upon a soft pillow - _his_ pillow, by the smell of it- watching with bated breath as he pulls a condom from the bedside drawer. Once he's rolled it on, he easily finds his way to her, lying on top between her open legs.

The furious rush they were in before has dissipated, making way for something sweet and slow. When they kiss again, it's tender and careful. The look in his eyes makes her heart flutter. He looks at her like she's precious, special, something to keep safe forever. She sweeps her fingers past her cheek, plays with his hair, smiles into the kisses she gives him.

She's falling for him, and falling hard.

"You still okay with this?" he asks gently.

Rey nods and smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Yes. Absolutely."

He lines himself up with her entrance and pushes forward slowly. The stretch is significant compared to his fingers, filling her so full it actually makes her wince. He stops immediately, pressing an apologetic kiss to her cheek.

"Should I stop?" he asks, concerned.

"No, just- You're really big. I just need a second."

He nods, carefully cradling her body close. The golden glow of the setting sun through the bedroom windows paints his skin, allowing Rey to admire all of the hidden marks on his skin. She notices a scar across the front of his right shoulder, leading up across his collar bone. It's faint, incredibly old, almost healed over. It's in this golden sun that Rey can count the freckles on his face. She's never paid attention to them before, not really. They're perfect imperfections, unique to him and him alone.

Rey shifts and settles beneath Kylo's weight, finally adjusting. She nods, smiling shyly. "I think I'm ready now."

"You sure?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Okay."

He starts slowly at first, pushing all the way in. Rey trembles beneath him, the air squeezing out of her lungs as he plunges deeper and deeper. She feels so impossibly full she thinks she might break. But she doesn't. And something tells her Kylo would never allow that to happen. He throbs inside of her, but he's clearly holding back for her sake. When the head of his cock sweeps past her sweet spot yet again, something explosive erupts out of nowhere.

"Oh, _fuuuuck_ ," she whimpers. Her walls flutter around him as her whole body ignites into flames. The pleasure is all-consuming, knocking her thoughts from her mind.

Kylo huffs, stunned. "Did you- Just from me-"

Rey covers her face with her hands, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. You just feel so good, I-"

He chuckles, pushing her hands aside to pepper her face with kisses. "Don't be sorry, it's alright. Can I keep going?"

"Yes. Yes, please. I want to make you cum."

"Hold on to me, sweetheart."

She does so, circling his neck with her arms. He rolls his hips against her, pace picking up in rhythm. The slap of their skin combined with the sound of their filthy groans is music to her ears. He snaps her hips into her relentlessly, searching for more of that sweet friction. The bed creaks in protest beneath them, but they show no signs of slowing down.

"Fucking God, your pussy feels so good."

"Fuck, I- Right there, baby."

"So nice and tight for me. Spread your legs wider, that's it."

Rey can feel herself growing tighter, hotter, brighter. She can hardly breathe, and her heart is racing a mile a minute. "I think- Fuck, I think I'm going to cum again. I think-"

Kylo claims her mouth, tongue sweeping over hers as he pins both her wrists above her head against the pillow. He fucks her harder, claiming her, pushing her closer and closer toward climax. When it happens, she moans into his mouth, quaking beneath his weight. He finds release, too, his muscles tensing as he spills over.

They lie there together for a while, nothing but the sound of their combined panting to fill the silence.

Rey's blissed out of her mind. "Wow," she whispers.

"Good?"

She laughs softly. "Amazing," she corrects.

"Come here," he orders, scooping her up in his arms.

They kiss for a few minutes, or maybe it's a few hours. Rey supposes it doesn't much matter.

She can't remember the last time she felt this complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I know getting your test results back that quickly is uber unlikely, but I hope you can suspend your belief for a bit so that I can move this story along ahahaha! Also, three times for Rey? Lucky girl.
> 
> Otters mate for life. How sad did I just make you?
> 
> Sorry for the upload delay. I've been feeling super unmotivated lately. I binged watched Bridgerton on Netflix, and now I kind of want to write a regency au and I just-
> 
> Also fair warning: the angst is coming.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://lovewinonawren.tumblr.com/)!


	20. Trust (Or Lack Thereof) [NSFW]

Kylo's never brought a girl to his apartment before. Even when he was still seeing Bazine, their dalliances were always at her place. It was his way of keeping things separate, clinical. No need to worry about the morning after and the tiptoeing around each other and the awkward ' _see you later maybe_ ' conversations when his guests couldn't sleep over.

But when he rolls over first thing in the morning to find Rey there beside him, he's never felt more at peace. She's hogged all the blankets, curled up in her own little burrito of warmth. All he can see is the tip of her nose poking out from beneath, as well as a few strands of her hair. He smiles to himself. She really is the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

He slings an arm over her and holds her close. The clock on his nightstand reads 5:00 AM. There's still plenty of time to sleep.

The next time he stirs, it's to the smell of bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

He reaches to his side, groggy and mildly disoriented, but finds Rey's half of the bed vacant. He can hear her humming a soft tune elsewhere in the apartment, so he rubs the sleep from his eyes, pulls on a fresh pair of sweats from his closet, and shuffles out of the bedroom toward the kitchen.

Rey is a sight to behold.

She's put on his black sweater, the one he'd worn yesterday and taken off in great haste last night. Her hair is a tousled mess, somehow effortlessly ethereal as it catches the sunlight. It doesn't appear that she's wearing much else. Kylo, naturally, is overcome with the strong urge to check.

While Rey flips a pancake, he slides up behind her slips an arm around her waist. He brushes her hair to the side so that he can kiss the part of her neck he just bared. Rey giggles, suggestively grinding her ass up against him.

"This looks delicious," he murmurs against her skin.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted, so I made a bit of everything."

"I wasn't talking about the food."

She throws her head back and laughs. "Oh, _wow_. That was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard."

He chuckles. "You like it."

"Yeah, I kind of do. How do you like your eggs?"

"However you like them."

"I don't like eggs."

"Oof," he mumbles, pulling away. "That might be a deal breaker for me."

Rey rolls her eyes, but there isn't any heat behind it. "Oh, come off it."

"How can you not like eggs?"

"I don't _not_ like eggs. They're just not my favorite. I'd prefer not to eat them by themselves. Too eggy."

He crinkles his nose. "How would you describe this dish, chef? Oh, ' _too eggy_.'"

Rey kills the heat on the stove and turns, playfully swatting at Ben's chest. "This is bullying at the workplace," she teases, smiling wide.

"We're not at the workplace."

"So it's just bullying, then?"

"Face it, sweetheart. You like it when I'm a little mean."

"Maybe."

He places a hand on either side of her hips and presses her up against the edge of the kitchen counter. "Maybe?"

"I like it when you're in control," she clarifies. "Not when you're mean, per se. Though those two things tend to go hand in hand with you."

"You like it when I'm in control, huh?"

Rey nods, nibbling her bottom lip. "It's sexy. I love how you look at the front of the line, running your kitchen. It's distracting, really."

"That so?"

"It's your hands that do me in, though."

"These hands?" he asks, slipping his palms beneath her sweater - _his_ sweater. He pulls up at the fabric and realizes something. "Are you-"

"Not wearing any underwear? Yeah."

He finally kisses her, grumbling, "You're a fucking wet dream."

"You're welcome."

Kylo lifts Rey onto the kitchen counter and immediately drops to his knees, licking and nipping his way up her inner thighs. He sighs contently when he finds her lips wet with want. He teases her clit with the tip of his tongue, drawing tight circles while savoring her taste.

Breakfast can wait. Right now, he wants to eat.

He ignores his throbbing cock to instead focus on her. Her moans are like a siren's song, hypnotizing and intoxicating. She grips his hair at the roots and holds him where she wants him. Kylo licks and teases and prods, dipping his tongue in and out of her quivering entrance.

If he died this instant, he'd die a happy man.

"Mm, Ben-"

He freezes.

It feels like he's taken a punch to the gut.

"Don't call me that," he says with way more force than he intends.

Rey stiffens, startled. "Oh, I just thought-"

He shakes his head. "Sorry. I just... Please don't use that name."

She frowns, understandably confused. "Why?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You said that last time, too."

"Well, I'm still not ready."

"Ben, I-"

"Stop it." He rises from the floor, licking his lips.

The mood's ruined.

Rey bites her bottom lip, a flicker of annoyance ghosting past her hazel eyes. She closes her legs, suddenly bashful. "We've seen each other naked," she says with a scoff. "You were literally just eating me out. Do you not trust me or something?"

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

"That name. Everything it represents. It's not something I want to deal with. Ever."

"Everything it represents? I don't understand."

"You don't have to."

She gawks at him. "What the hell happened to you? What made you-" she gestures at him, "like this? Are we really going to have a fight over a name?"

"Leave it alone, Rey. It doesn't concern you."

Her jaw tightens. "What even is this?"

"What?"

"Us." The word lingers in the air, heavy and pointed.

"Rey-"

"If this is... If I'm just a casual fuck to you, fine. I get not opening up. But you said you wanted to do this right. I assumed you meant..." Rey huffs, growing more and more agitated. She hops off the edge of the kitchen counter and stares up at him. "I assumed you meant trying to be together."

"That's what I meant, yes."

"Well, then. I hate to break it to you, but that means talking to me. About everything. But if you don't trust me enough, then-"

"What are you saying?"

Rey gets up and pulls her hair up into a messy ponytail. "Fuck," she hisses. "Maybe this was a mistake."

"Don't be like this. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" she snaps. "You have two fucking names and you won't tell me why. That's not normal. I don't... I don't know you."

"Don't say that."

"But it's true!" She shifts her weight from foot to foot. If Kylo didn't know any better, he'd assume she's seconds away from making a run for it. "The boy I knew in culinary school was sweet and gentle and loved to crack jokes. But you-" She licks her lips, struggling to find the right words. "You're terrifying at work. You're intimidating as fuck. You're a monster that everyone's afraid of pissing off. That doesn't just _happen_."

He clenches his fists tight, remaining perfectly still. "Are you afraid of me, Rey?"

She chews on the inside of her cheek. "I'm afraid that you won't be honest with me when it counts. I don't ask for a lot, but I _need_ honesty. Plutt lied to me about spending my scholarship money. My parents lied to me about coming home. I don't think I can handle you lying to me about who you are." Rey approaches cautiously, daring to reach out to press a hand to his chest. "You can trust me," she whispers. "I mean, I know I'm sounding super hypocritical, but I did come clean. I'm literally trusting you with my job, to keep my secret. Why can't you trust me, too?"

"It's not about trust. I can't talk about it."

"Why not? I don't want to be with someone that doesn't-"

"I said I can't! Just fucking leave me alone!"

Rey winces and he hates himself that much more for it. "Jesus."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

She casts her eyes to the floor, searching for her clothes. She gathers everything and changes hastily. "I should get going."

"Rey- Fuck, Rey, no. I'm-"

"I'll see you at work."

"Then let me grab my keys. I'll drive you home."

"No."

He swallows. "No?"

Rey forces a smile. He hates how stiff and sad it looks. "I don't want to trouble you. I'll just grab the bus. Let's, um- Let's pretend this never happened, okay?"

"Rey, wait-"

"When you feel like talking to me, let me know. If not, don't worry about it. We'll just pretend that-" She doesn't finish her sentence. Rey grabs the last of her things and is out the door in a flash, leaving Kylo standing there like an idiot.

An angry, oversized idiot who desperately needs a smoke because _fuck._ Fuck it all to hell. He trudges over to the nearest stash of cigarette cartons he has hidden behind one of the fake plants on his shelf, whipping a cigarette and light out in a flash.

He takes a long drag and welcomes to burn in his lung. He'd been trying so hard to quit. For her. But now he's gone and fucking ruined everything, so he might as well ruin his body, too, because fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. He wants to put his fist through a wall. He settles for destroying himself.

He knows he could tell her. He could reveal the truth. He doubts that Rey will judge him because -bless her soul- she's an angel and she'd never do such a thing. But it's not that simple. It's not that easy because the past, _his_ past... It hurts to even think about. He's spent a decade learning to swallow the guilt, to ignore it until it's a dull sensation in the pit of his stomach. Talking about it, revisiting those old memories...

Paris. His parents. Snoke. The rain. The last time he saw his father.

He'd kill the past, if he could. Just to be rid of the pain.

Sharing that part of his life with Rey... He's not willing to do it. He doesn't want her to see him for what he is.

A coward. A little boy too afraid to return home.

He stares at his kitchen. There's enough food here to feed a whole family.

He doesn't have enough of an appetite to eat at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author giveth, and author can taketh away.
> 
> Y'all should really check out my new Regency-esque AU fic, [The Children of the Five Kingdoms](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28942725).  
> Political intrigue! Arranged marriages! Royalty! Light Side Prince Ben! Dark Side Princess Rey! *LE GASP*
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://lovewinonawren.tumblr.com/)!


	21. The Offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 500 KUDOS THANK YOU SO MUCH YOU'RE ALL AMAZING! HAVE YOURSELVES A DOUBLE UPDATE!
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://lovewinonawren.tumblr.com/)!

Rey wants to kick herself until her shins are purple with bruises.

She's thought about it long and hard since leaving this morning.

She shouldn't have pushed. She realizes she overstepped, that she shouldn't have tried to make Kylo talk about his past if he wasn't ready. What happened to him -whatever it was- must have been traumatic. She was wrong to demand the truth from him, wrong to make him so uncomfortable.

She simply thought that - _maybe_ \- they were close enough now.

Clearly not.

She talks herself into circles. On one hand, she doesn't want to stress him out. But doesn't he care enough to at least _try_ to talk to her? She shouldn't feel this guilty for wanting to get to know him, to understand him.

Rey decides she'll apologize to him when she sees him at work. Mainly because she feels bad about leaving things the way she did. Maybe they'll be able to salvage -whatever it is that they are. But if not? If not, she'll have to deal with the mess she's made. She doesn't want to imagine how fucking awkward it's going to be now, how awful and strained and downright embarrassing.

What if he hates her now? What if he wants nothing to do with her? Kylo could fire her on the spot, if he wants. But _will_ he?

God. She wants to be anywhere else in the world but here. But if she suddenly calls in sick, she knows Kylo will see right through her ruse. That'll only make it _more_ unbearable to show up to work.

_A fine mess, indeed._

"Fuck me," she grumbles to herself as she steps through the back doors of The First Order.

The first person to greet her -thankfully- is Poe. He's practically buzzing with excitement. Rose and Finn seem just as jazzed.

"What's going on?" she asks them.

"You are looking at the freshly promoted chef de partie," Finn announces, patting Poe on the shoulder.

She blinks, amazed. "Wait, what? What happened to-"

"Hux?" Poe laughs joyously. "Fired. Can you believe it?"

"Fucking finally, if you ask me," says Rose.

"Fired? You mean-"

"We're going out for drinks tonight to celebrate," Finn says. "Want to come? It's his treat."

Poe puts his hands up in protest. "Whoa, what? I didn't agree to that?"

"You're the one getting a pay bump, man. Treat us a little."

She spots Kylo exiting the kitchen office. He looks... Well, normal. Why wouldn't he? She's always admired how good he looks in his chef jacket, sleeves rolled up to expose his thick forearms. Today, though, she can't bring herself to look him in the eye.

"Congrats," she mumbles before brushing past her friends. "Please excuse me for a sec."

Rey rushes over to the head chef, frowning.

"Yes?" Kylo asks casually. _Too_ casually.

"What the actual hell?"

"What are you on about?"

Rey grits her teeth. "Seriously? It's going to be like this, is it?"

"I'm busy. Service is in-"

"I don't care about service," she snaps, loud enough that a few nearby cooks look up from their prep in surprise.

"Fuck's sake. Come here." Kylo takes her hand and drags her into his office, shutting the door closed.

"I told you not to do anything stupid," she hisses. "Why did you fire Hux? And why is this the first I'm hearing about it? Aren't you supposed to run things like this by me first?"

"How I choose to run my kitchen has nothing to do with you."

The way he says it -all cold and clinical and definite- that sends a chill slithering down Rey's spine. It's like he's put his walls back up. Walls that Rey thought she was well and truly over. The sting of frustrated tears builds in her eyes, but she refuses to cry. This is neither the time, nor the place, and she sure as hell won't give him the satisfaction of getting to her.

Kylo sighs, lowering his voice so that it's soft and impossibly gentle. "I had a number of legitimate reasons to terminate him. He said inappropriate things to you, his work performance was lacking, and-" He reaches behind him and pulls open the top drawer to his office desk. He retrieves her old knife roll, the one that had suddenly gone missing from her staff locker.

Rey frowns, taking the item from him. "He took it? Why didn't you tell-" She chews on the inside of her cheek, refusing to finish her question.

_Since when does he tell me anything at all?_

"Consider the situation handled," Kylo says flatly. "Hux will never work in this industry again."

"What do you mean?"

"I have a number of contacts. Food critics, other chefs, restaurant owners. I called everyone I could think of to warn them that Hux might try to find a job with them. Let's just say he did not earn a stellar work reference."

Rey swallows, shaky. "So you just destroyed his career? Just like that?"

"Hux was fucking cunt. He was given fair warning time and time again. He pissed off the wrong people, so this is what he gets."

"And what about me?"

"What?"

"If I piss you off, will you do the same?"

Kylo balks. He looks like he's been stabbed. "Do you really think so little of me?" He sounds impossibly small. "If this is about this morning-"

"Of course this is about this morning."

"Rey, I'm sor-"

A knock at the door interrupts them both. It swings open, revealing Snoke on the other side.

"Ah, there you two are," he says, sickly sweet. "In the middle of a meeting, I see. I hope I'm not interrupting."

Kylo stiffens. "Actually, I need to speak with her alo-"

"You're not interrupting," Rey says quickly.

Snoke smiles. "Might I have a word?"

"Sure. I'll give you two some privacy."

"No, dear. I meant I wish to speak to _you_."

Rey holds her breath. "Oh, um..." She glances at Kylo, who appears just as concerned as she feels. What the hell does this wrinkly old sea cucumber want with her, of all people? "Of course, sir," she says slowly.

"Come. We can use one of the tables in the dining room." Snoke turns to leave, expecting Rey to follow on her heel.

She takes a single step forward before Kylo catches her hand, frantic. "Rey, wait."

She slips out of his grasp. "Not now."

"Rey, _please_ just-"

She shuts the door as she walks out. End of conversation. She can't handle this right now.

Snoke has chosen a small table in the back corner of The First Order, one with a frosted glass partition beside them to block them from view of the kitchen. Rey wonders if it's deliberate. It probably is. The table is meant for two, so it feels strangely intimate to be sitting across from him. Again, probably a deliberate move on his part. Like he _knows_ how to get under her skin, purposefully placing himself within her personal bubble. He can feign innocence, of course. After all, this is just a little chat they're having. Perfectly pleasant and friendly.

But Rey knows better. Her gut tells her that things aren't as they seem.

"How are you enjoying your time here?" Snoke asks, voice velvety smooth.

"It's been fantastic," she answers. 

_For the most part_. _It'd be better if my boss wasn't such a dickhead._

_A handsome, sexy dickhead._

_God, I hate him._

_No, I don't._

"I've been very impressed with you, Rey," Snoke continues. "I'm curious, what are your plans for the future?"

"My future?"

He checks under his fingernails for non-existent dirt. "I'm sure you're aware of all the accolades Kylo has earned over the years. Several Michelin stars. I'm sure you're aware that's like winning an Oscar for people like us."

Rey nods, admittedly impressed. "Yes. He's... quite amazing."

Deep down, she knows she means it.

"Ramsay, Oliver, Puck. They were all, at some point, protégés of mine. They all owe their success to me."

"Is that so?" she asks. She isn't interested in the slightest.

"Have you ever thought about running your own kitchen, my dear?"

"Sometimes. Maybe one day in the future. It's always been a pipedream for me."

"What if I told you it didn't have to be a dream for much longer?"

Her stomach flips. "I beg your pardon?"

"You have a great deal of potential. I would love the opportunity to truly help you shine." Snoke pulls out a slim white envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and slides it across the table. "I'm sure you're aware that The First Order isn't the only establishment I own. I have a number of restaurants scattered throughout the world, several of which I think you'd be a perfect fit for. All you would have to do is pick."

Rey opens the envelop and finds a single check inside. She's never seen so many zeroes in front of the decimal place before. "What is this?"

"Your signing bonus," he explains simply, like it's a stupid question.

"This is incredibly generous of you, sir."

It really, truly is. The check could pay for a PI like Maz Kanata five, maybe even six times over. Rey could finally afford a nice apartment, all the delicious food she wants to eat, all of the pretty dresses her heart could ever desire.

Snoke smiles demurely. "Think of it as an investment. And that's also on top of your yearly salary, which I assure you is quite competitive. You'll make the same amount that Kylo earns in no time at all."

Her hands can't stop shaking. She wants to pinch herself to make sure this is real. "I don't know what to say," she admits.

"You don't have to accept the offer right away. Please think on it, though don't take too long. Things tend to move fast in my line of work."

"Who will be Kylo's sous chef? If I accept, I mean."

"There's no need to concern yourself with finding a replacement. With the way things are going, I doubt there will be any need to..." Snoke trails off, laughing gently. "Don't mind me. Just the ramblings of an old man. Please let me know your answer as soon as possible. Hold onto the check. To serve as inspiration."

Rey slips the check back into the envelope, and then stuffs the envelop into the pocket of her apron. "Thank you, sir. I'll definitely mull it over."

"That's my girl. Thank you for your time, dear."

"You, as well."

"Best get back to the grind, then. I think service has started."

"Um, right. Thanks."

She gets up and walks back to the kitchen, so frazzled that she doesn't notice Kylo standing anxiously on the other side at first, clearly waiting for her.

"What did he want?" he asks, voice raspy. His brow is twisted with worry, and his cheeks are a little flushed. He looms near her, like he wants to reach out, but forces himself not to. God forbid he breaks his own PDA rule. Not that she really wants him to touch her right now, anyways.

Rey takes a deep breath. She doesn't know how to begin. Even though it's a flimsy piece of paper, the check in her pocket weighs a million tons. If she accepts Snoke's offer, she'll finally have the money she needs to find her parents. She'll have everything she could ever need.

But doubt creeps in and infests her mind. What if she can't do it? Kylo makes running a kitchen look easy. What if she can't pull it off, Snoke realizes she's full of shit, and he fires her due to incompetence? She'll end up right back at square one. She'll have left her friends behind.

She'll have left _him_ behind.

What will this mean for them if she accepts? If she _doesn't?_

Rey's too overwhelmed to deal with any of this right now.

He tries again, so soft and sweet and genuinely worried that Rey wants to cry. "Are you okay? Did he say something to you? You look-"

"I'm fine." She takes another deep breath. "What are the specials tonight?"

Kylo shifts in his spot. "Rey."

"The specials. What are they?"

"The fillet," he says slowly. "And the fois gras."

She brushes right past him. "Okay. Let's get to work."

She pretends not to notice the way he opens his mouth to speak, just to think against it and close it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so... This is turning into a pain train, sorry!


	22. Shut Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So things are going to get really rough for Kylo for the next little while. I promise that no one gets hurt and he will get proper help soon, but speaking as someone who's suffered from stress-related dissociative states, it's no fun and I hope I handle the subject matter appropriately. Please mind the tags and take care of yourselves.

This is the worst fucking shift he's had in weeks.

The restaurant is slammed. Poe is understandably adjusting to the responsibilities of his new role, so things aren't running as smoothly as they could be. And worst of all?

Rey won't look at him. Not once.

The orders won't stop coming in, his cooks are swamped, and this god-awful pain in his chest every time Rey ignores him just won't go away.

He knows he needs to apologize. He _wants_ to apologize. For his behavior, for being standoffish, for being an irredeemable asshole. He knows he shouldn't have yelled at her, made her feel like she wasn't worth letting in. It's just that he can't find the time to pull her aside and explain himself.

And then there's Snoke. His unannounced appearance had thrown Kylo through a loop. He desperately wants to ask Rey what they talked about, what was said. She appeared quite shaken when she returned from her one-on-one with the restauranteur. All he wants to know is if she's okay, if she needs him for -anything, really.

He only gets more and more frustrated as the night goes on. He can't help it. Nothing's going right. Dishes are sent back, customers are dissatisfied with wait times, and the dishwashing machine in the pit keeps getting clogged up with all manner of food scraps and bent straws.

Things with Rey are off-kilter, too. He can feel it. They're working on the same sinking ship, but not working _together_. He talks over her, she talks over him, sometimes giving conflicting information to the other cooks. She sends out food before Kylo's ready, he holds back when she clearly needs to clear chits. He can't count the number of times they've almost had run-ins with one another, stepping on each other's toes. They need to be better than this. _Should_ be better than this. What's supposed to be an organized dance is now a fucking free for all.

His eruption is inevitable. A long time in the making. All the signs are there: the piercing headache behind his eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the rage boiling in his stomach. Part of him -the weaker, pathetic part deep down- wants to curl up into a ball and sleep it all away. The other part of him knows that it's easier just to explode.

It just so happens that Rose is the unfortunate soul caught in his line of fire when he finally does.

"What are you fucking doing?" he hisses at the top of his lungs. "I can't serve this when it looks like pig slop."

Rose tenses, very much a deer caught in the headlights. "But I've been making the sundaes this way all evening."

"You're drowning the damn thing in caramel sauce. Who the fuck approved that?"

" _I_ did," Rey hisses.

"It needs to be consistent," he snaps back. "We can't have people come in one week expecting a goddamn caramel river, and the next week only receive a drizzle. That shit is what makes people think we're skimping on ingredients."

"It's not that big of a deal. We need more caramel to balance the sweetness."

"That's not for you to decide. We're going off the goddamn recipe _I_ wrote."

"Maybe your recipe needs to be revisited because the way you make it tastes like ass."

"The fuck did you just say to me?"

"You heard me. It. Tastes. Like. Ass."

"Take that back."

She crosses her arms. "No."

Poe tries to step in between them, trying to ease some of the tension. "Mom, Dad. Let's not fight, okay?"

"Shut the fuck up, Dameron!" Kylo and Rey both shout at the exact same time.

Rey rolls her eyes with a huff, turning on her heel to stomp off to the walk-in. Kylo follows without hesitation, unwilling to let this go. The door closes shut on them, trapping them in the small confines of the refrigerator.

"Go away."

"What the hell is your problem?"

She whips around with alarming speed, forcing his back against the frigid door. "You. _You_ are my problem."

"Jesus, you're impossible."

" _I'm_ impossible? You can't make it two minutes without berating your employees."

"I wouldn't have to berate them if they'd just do their fucking jobs."

"Mistakes happen. They happen all the time. Tearing a person down isn't going to help in the slightest. Rose looked like she was two seconds away from crying!"

"Then maybe she's not tough enough to be in my kitchen."

"Why does anybody have to be tough? I didn't realize that being tough was a requirement to work in a fucking kitchen. But I guess that's what the mighty Kylo Ren needs to feel like a goddamn man, or whatever the fuck persona you decide to use when you wake up in the morning."

"Don't fucking go there, Rey."

"No, I'd better not. Lord knows it won't do me a bit of good."

"I told you already. I'm not fucking ready to talk about it!"

"Yes, you've made that perfectly clear!"

"What the fuck are we even fighting about?"

"I don't fucking know!" She deflates, swallowing her frustration. "I don't know anymore."

Rey sounds like she's going to cry and it breaks his heart in two. She's like this because of _him_. God, he couldn't possibly hate himself more.

Kylo takes a gentle step forward and dares to reach up, hesitantly bringing his fingers up to her cheek. "I'm sorry," he says hoarsely. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean-"

She brushes his hand away, too upset to listen.

There's a ringing in his ears, but it's almost inaudible over the hard rush of blood pumping through his skull. The lights of the kitchen are too fucking bright. His skin is feverish and sore. He has never experienced an exhaustion quite like this before. He feels like he's witnessing everything happen from two inches left of his actual body. No matter what he does, he can't get a grip.

It's too loud and it's too quiet. His body feels too heavy, but he also feels untethered and about to float away.

He wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to put his fucking head through the dishwasher.

Then something occurs to him. It's a sudden moment of clarity.

Staring down at Rey, he wonders how the fuck he got here. He thought she was the last person in the world he'd ever raise his voice to. He hates it. He doesn't mean to, nor does he want to continue. And yet here they are, at each other's throats, screaming like there's no tomorrow.

And for what?

He can't remember when being angry became his default setting. He can't remember how The First Order became more important to him than the people in his life. He can't remember where Ben stopped and Kylo began. This job, this _place_ , has chipped away at him for years. The constant grind, the never-ending orders, the relentless scrutiny of his every move.

He's alive, but he's dead. Hollow on the inside with nothing left to give. The demands of the job have drained him of all he has. He's in so much pain and under so much stress that he can't remember what life was like before Snoke dug his claws into him.

He can't do this anymore. He won't. 

Especially not if it means going up against Rey.

For once in his life, he's found something too important to him to let The First Order and Snoke destroy.

He might have done that all by himself.

Something inside of him finally _breaks_.

"I'm done."

Rey blinks. "W-what? What do you mean?"

He doesn't mean to shut down, but he does. It's like his brain has ceased all functions for the sake of self-preservation. He processes nothing, the next few minutes a blur. He doesn't register sound or time or movement. All he knows is that he can't stay a moment longer.

He doesn't remember getting in his car.

He doesn't remember Rey calling after him.

He doesn't remember driving home.

He doesn't remember pulling out his phone and dialing a number he hasn't called in over a decade.

The phone rings five times before a woman answers.

"Hello?"

Kylo clears his throat. "Mom? I... I need help."


	23. Headspace

Kylo doesn't show up for work the next day.

Or the day after that.

Or even the day after that.

The sinking feeling in Rey's chest won't go away. It's so intense that she isn't sure if she needs to vomit, cry, or scream. Maybe some kind of combination of all three, though she can't be quite sure.

It’s hard for her not to worry. He up and left in the middle of service and hasn’t been back since. She sent him a couple of texts asking after him, but they’ve all gone unanswered.

She wants to throw up because this is feeling all too familiar.

_Texting her parents. Wondering when they were coming home. Sitting alone as the sun set, staring at an empty dinner table._

_Feeling anxious. Wanting to cry, but trying so desperately to be brave. Something's probably keeping them. She just has to be a good girl and wait._

_They'll be back. Some day._

She's angry, too. Not at him, but herself.

Now that she’s had some time, she has nothing but ample opportunity to reflect on how wrong she was. How selfish, how childish, how cruel and unthinking.

She pushed him too hard. She kept poking and prodding under the excuse of wanting to get closer when she should have recognized his boundaries and respected them.

Just because she’s shared her secrets, that doesn’t mean she has a right to his.

It's just that she's scared of not knowing. Not knowing means she feels out of control. She's spent half her life not knowing about her parents, and it's instilled this deep, ugly, twisted insecurity within her very marrow. It's an insecurity that she wasn't fully aware of until now, and she feels that much more a fool because of it.

Rey knows it's a poor excuse, but she can't rationalize it any other way.

She comes to work on the fourth day and finds that he still isn't there. She enters the kitchen office, but there isn't any sign of him. It's at this point that she really starts to panic. Kylo wasn't in a good state of mind when he left, and he sped away too quickly for Rey to get through to him.

She sits down in his office chair and sighs, resting her elbows on the desk before her.

_No one ever chooses to stay. No one ever chooses her._

_Is it because she's broken? Is it because she's not good enough?_

_Why else would people just throw her away?_

There's a soft knock at the door. Rey nearly jumps out of her seat.

"Kylo-"

Finn pokes his head into the office, offering an apologetic smile. "Nope, sorry. Just me."

Rey slumps in her seat. "Oh."

"How're you doing?" he asks, moving to lean against the edge of the desk. Finn folds his arms across his chest and observes her, calm and patient.

"I'm fine."

"Why don't I believe you?"

Rey shakes her head, too drained to keep up her brave face. "I made a mistake."

"With Kylo?"

"I... I said some things that I shouldn't have."

"That can happen some times."

"No, I... I knew better. But that didn't stop me from pushing."

"Must have been pretty serious for him to dip on us like this."

Guilt twists in her stomach like a knife. "Yeah," she mumbles.

"Have you tried reaching out to him?"

"Several texts, but I haven't heard anything back. I'm afraid that if I try again I'll be overstepping. More than I already have."

"I've seen the guy blow up before, but never quite like that. Do you think he might..."

"What?"

"Try something stupid."

Rey swallows. Now she really does want to puke. "Like hurt himself?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Himself, or someone else."

"God, I don't know." She starts to shake. "All he said was, ' _I'm done_.' I have no idea what the fuck he meant by that. Does he mean he quits? Does he mean he's done with _me_? Fuck, I just-"

"Hey, hey," Finn coos, rubbing her gently on the back. "It's okay. Everything's going to be fine."

"What if it doesn't? What if I've ruined everything before they've even begun?"

"Rey, deep breaths, hey? Deep breaths."

She follows his lead, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. She feels fucking pathetic. She wishes she could take everything back.

"Look," Finn says gently. "I don't know what's going on between the two of you or what's happened, but I can tell how much you care about each other. Sometimes we say and do things that can hurt those closest to us."

"But I should know better."

"Yes. But you're not perfect, Rey. Nobody is. Sometimes our emotions get the better of us. Sometimes we have lapses in judgement. It _happens_. Everyone makes mistakes. But what do we do after?"

Rey's jaw tenses. "We learn. And apologize."

Finn nods. "Give the man a bit of space. You both need to cool off. Once you're both ready, then you can move forward."

"Thank you. I really needed to hear that."

"No problem, peanut."

"When did you get so smart?"

"I've always been smart. I know I may come across as the comedic relief of our little group, but I can promise you that I have a lot of wisdom to offer."

"Clearly."

"I was in the army, you know. I've known my fair share of Kylo-types."

Rey sits up a bit straighter, intrigued. "You were in the army?"

"Yeah. Enlisted out of high school. Not out of a sense of patriotism or anything, but because I wasn't ready for a life without structure and order. Found myself amongst a lot of like-minded individuals, a lot of whom had tempers like our favorite head chef here. Some of them were... deeply troubled, I guess you could say."

"How did you... I don't know. Bond with them, I guess? I'm sure it was imperative in that line of work."

Finn shrugs. "By being patient. Everyone's got a backstory. Everyone has scars they need to heal. It's just that, for some, those scars can't be found on the skin. Some people never opened up to me, and that's okay. We could function together, work together, get the job done. Some of them did, and that was great, too. It definitely made the job easier, having that kind of rapport. But at the end of the day, nobody owed me any explanations. And it quite frankly wasn't my place to play detective and demand answers. Relationships have to be organic, not forced. Otherwise they don't last."

Rey nods, Finn's words striking a chord with her. "I see that now."

He pats her on the shoulder. "He'll come around. You'll see. Just give him time."

"Yeah. I'm going to do that."

"Service is going to start soon. You feel like kicking tonight's ass?"

_People come and people go. At the end of the day, she only has herself._

_She feels too much, loves too hard. Maybe that's why people leave her._

_Maybe she's too clingy. She demands too much. That's probably what makes it hard to be around her._

_But if_ _she puts on a smile and keeps marching forward, it'll leave no time to dwell on the past._

"Absolutely," she answers quietly.

* * *

She gets through service even though it's the weirdest feeling in the world not to be working by his side.

His absence is jarring, like she's missing a part of herself. She just doesn't feel right.

Closing routines have become second nature to Rey. She double checks that everything's been cleaned within an inch of its life -just in case the health inspector decides to make an impromptu visit- and then she makes note of all the ingredients they're running low on. Kylo is usually the one who approves inventory orders, but she has to do it herself since there's no telling when he'll come back to work.

 _If_ he comes back to work.

Her mind is a haze. The last couple of days have been rough.

Unable to sleep, haunted by the harshness of her own words.

Haunted by the look in Kylo's eyes as he left, empty and cold and lost.

Haunted by Snoke's offer, using every second since to doubt if she's even worth such generosity.

Rey wants to talk to someone about it, to make sense of it all, to find her place and her footing. Part of her wants to take the deal. Part of her wants to run as far away in the opposite direction as she can. She doesn't know what she wants anymore. A lot has changed recently, too much and too quickly. This sudden shift in the winds has her directionless, frantically staring down a storm she can see approaching.

The only person she wants to talk to about the offer won't return her texts.

The only person she wants to talk to at all, she needlessly hurt.

_God, I hope he's okay._

"Rey," Rose calls from the doors. "We're headed out. Need a ride?"

"No, thank you. I've got a bit of work to finish here. I'll see you all tomorrow."

"Don't work yourself too hard," Poe says with a light laugh.

"See you tomorrow, peanut," adds Finn as the trio walk out the door.

And then it's just her, in the middle of the quiet kitchen without a clue as to what to do next. She pulls out her phone to see if she's missed any messages, but there are no new notifications waiting for her. With a heavy sigh, she types up one last message. One that's sincere, one that's understanding.

 _[Rey] I'm sorry. I_ _know you probably don't want to talk to me, but can you at least let me know if you're safe? I promise not to bother you anymore, if that's what you want._

She sends it off without a second thought and stuffs her phone in her pocket before grabbing her coat and locking up.

The bus ride home is a miserable one. Long, draining, and the seats smell a bit musty. It's a relief when she arrives at her stop, located just a few blocks from her actual apartment building. She walks the rest of the way, pulling her thin jacket closed over her chest against the cold night. She's brisk in her journey home, shivering the whole way.

It's when she sees an Audi parked out front that she takes pause, her heart suddenly in her throat.

Kylo sits on the curb side, long legs extending out before him. He doesn't look angry. He doesn't look sad. It's like the fire within him has been snuffed out.

He just looks numb.

 _I'm done_.

Rey holds her breath and cautiously takes a seat next to him, the cold of the pavement seeping through her work pants and biting at her skin. She doesn't say anything. Neither does he. Rey contemplates asking how he's been, but one look and it's fairly obvious.

Kylo's in rough shape. Not as bad as she expected, but his weariness is almost palpable.

There are dark circles beneath his eyes. His normally luscious black locks are knotted and a little greasy. He smells like an ashtray.

Rey's the first to give in and speak.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm so sorry. I overstepped and I didn't respect your boundaries and I promise never to do that again. But I'd also understand if you... If you don't want to keep seeing me. I said things I shouldn't have and... Fuck. I was a lot more eloquent in my texts." She laughs bitterly.

"You sent texts?"

She glances at him. "Yes? A good dozen. I was trying to check up on you, but you never answered."

"Broke my phone," he replies curtly.

"You what?"

"My phone. Broke it." He runs a hand through his hair. "I was... angry. I called my mother and she... She has that affect on me. So I broke my phone."

Rey swallows, incredulous. "Your mother? What-" She stops herself. It's none of her business. If he feels like sharing, great. Until then, she's learned her lesson about prying. "I was really worried about you," she says instead. She chews on the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. It doesn't help. Her eyes feel hot with the threat of tears, the mounting pressure inside her skull too strong to fight against any longer. "You said you were done. Did you mean with _me_?"

Kylo shakes his head, frustrated. "No, I- Ah, shit. I'm sorry. I know how bad that sounds. Please don't cry, Rey, I-"

It's too late.

It hits her like a runaway train.

Frustration, followed by a quick and heavy dose of alleviation.

She sobs into her hands. "Do you have any idea how scared I was? You left. You just _left_. You said you were done and you drove off and didn't answer my calls and I thought-" Her voice is shaky. It's squeaky and pathetic and cracking all over the place. "I was so worried. What if you got in an accident or something? What if you were hurt? Dead in a ditch somewhere? There would have been no way for me to know if you were okay or not and I-"

It suddenly occurs to her that a runaway train isn't a good enough analogy.

This hits much harder. Deeper. 

_Darker_.

"I don't want to have to look for you, too!"

The silence that follows is brutal.

"Shit," Kylo mutters to himself. "Fuck, Rey. I forgot all about-"

She shakes her head, trying to shake herself free of the thoughts. "No, no. It's fine."

"It's not fine-"

"I don't want to make this about me. I'm just glad that you're alright."

"Rey?"

"What?"

"Can I hug you?"

She nods quickly, eagerly. No sooner is she wrapped up in his arms.

Every ounce of stress she has bottled up in her body evaporates. She feels safe. She feels good.

She feels like she's home.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs into her hair. "I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have left the way I did-"

"Don't apologize. You have nothing to apologize for."

"You're important to me, Rey. I shouldn't have shut you out."

"You only did that because I carried on the way I did. I shouldn't have pushed you."

"That's no excuse to stonewall you. It's just... My brain shut off. I wasn't thinking. I couldn't."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me. Not unless you want to. I'm just so glad you're safe."

"This was just a stupid fight."

"Yeah. Really stupid."

He breathes her in. Rey melts into his touch.

"Jesus," he grumbles. "You're freezing. Do you want to go inside?"

"Yes, please," she mutters through chattering teeth.

* * *

They end up on her couch. He sits forward while she straddles his lap, chest to chest, arms draped over his shoulders as they continue to embrace.

They're like this for a long while, holding each other. Recharging. They say nothing. Neither of them have the energy to start. Rey knows they have a lot to talk about still, but for now, this is fine.

He rubs his palms up and down the curve of her back. She closes her eyes and rests her face in the crook of his neck.

"I should have said that I quit," he says softly. "Not that I'm done. That was a poor choice of words."

"You quit?"

"That place... I think being at The First Order makes me crazy."

"You're not crazy."

"It makes me _feel_ crazy. I feel like..." He tilts his head back and rests it against the back of the couch. "I feel like I was always going to explode. It was just a matter of time. I'm just sorry that you had to see it. I'm sorry that I didn't reach out sooner. It wasn't my intention to frighten you."

All Rey can do is nod. She doesn't mind. Sure, in the moment, it had been frightening to see him leave. But Kylo's here now, and that's what matters most to her.

"Are you really alright with that?" she asks softly. "I'm not questioning your choice. I just want to know if you've thought this through."

"I haven't. That's why I needed some time away. To think. I thought working on a new menu would help inspire me. Turns out it's even more of a drag. Honest to God, the only time I felt even remotely okay was when I was cooking with you."

Rey smiles gently. "Do you mean that you're done with The First Order, or cooking in general?"

"I don't know. Maybe both. It's kind of terrifying." He sighs. "It's _really_ terrifying. This is all I've ever known. Food is my passion. _Was_ my passion. I can't imagine doing anything else with my life, but I also know that I can't keep doing things like this. I'm... I'm tired. I'm _exhausted_. I need a break. From all of it."

She sits back and takes in his face. She believe him, can see the fatigue in the lines of his face. She's personally experienced burnout once or twice, but what Kylo's going through...

This is on a whole other level. A devastating one.

"Whatever you need," she tells him, cupping his cheeks in her hands. "I promise I'll be here. Not pushing. Just... here."

"Thank you, Rey. I needed to hear that."

"So... What now?"

"I'm going to visit my mother," he says. "She lives upstate. That's why I called her."

Rey blinks. "Oh. I thought you said-"

"That I broke my phone after? Yeah, uh... I was just in a bad headspace."

"H-how long will you be gone?"

"I'm not sure yet."

Her stomach flips. "So you _are_ leaving."

Kylo holds her a bit tighter. "No, sweetheart. I'll be back before you know it."

She sets her jaw. She's heard this particular song before. But she swallows her fear and forces herself to nod. She can't be selfish. Not right now. It's so obvious that he needs this, this time and distance to heal and recuperate. She can't make this about herself.

"I understand," she mumbles. "Just promise to get a new phone so we can keep in touch?"

"I'm buying a new one first thing in the morning."

"When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow. Right after I hand in my formal resignation to Snoke."

She sucks in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. "Oh."

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

" _Rey_."

"Let's focus on you, yeah?"

"Your needs aren't second to mine, sweetheart. We're both going through some shit. Does this have to do with your meeting with him?"

She nods, hesitant.

Kylo sits up a little straighter. "What did he do? Did he say something to you?"

"He... He offered me a job," she recounts quietly. "Gave me this massive check saying it would be my signing bonus. He wants me to be a head chef at one of his other restaurants."

He stiffens, hard as a rock beneath her. The dark edge of a quiet fury tenses his muscles, a flicker of something hateful flashing across his eyes.

Not at her, of course. Never at her. It's an anger _for_ her.

"What did you say?" he asks, voice low and strained.

"That I'd think about it. But..."

"But?"

"It doesn't feel right. Working for him." Rey picks at beneath her nails, unable to concentrate otherwise. "He's always rubbed me the wrong way. The way he talks and says nice things, but it always seems pointed and condescending. Or the look in his eyes. He creeps me out, and as much as I want to run a restaurant one day, I definitely don't want to be under his thumb. And I've... I've seen how he stresses you out. How he treats you. I would never willingly work for a man like that."

"You're not just saying this because it's what I want to hear, is it?"

"No, of course not. I genuinely feel this way. I think I'm... Yeah. I'm going to decline. I would have done it sooner, but I wanted to talk to someone about it first. And you were really the only person I wanted to talk to. But _now_ I'm worried he'll be bitter about it. Like he'll make my life at The First Order a living hell if I stay."

"If he does, I'll make him regret it."

"Kylo-"

"I'm serious, Rey."

"I'm sure he won't," she says, more to herself than to him. "It'll be fine. I'll word it super politely or something."

He's clearly dissatisfied with the answer, but has no response. He settles for kissing the tip of her nose.

"Will you promise to text me when you get there?" she asks after a while.

"I promise."

She holds onto him for a little while longer, relieved to find the weight baring down on her chest has subsided. Rey doesn't want him to go, but she also understands that this is what he needs.

The only thing she wants is what's best for him.

Even if that means they have to be apart. Even for just a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all. I'm kind of growing dissatisfied with my own work lately, so that's why updates haven't been as frequent. I'm going to keep working, but please be patient if I don't release chapters right away. Many thank yous in advance!


	24. All That Matters

Pulling into the driveway of his childhood home is surreal. Everything's the same, but it also isn't.

The porch swing is still there, but its white paint job has been chipped away from years of exposure to wind and rain. His mother's rose garden, the one tucked directly in front of the porch, is still here, too. But it isn't as grand or as vibrant as it used to be. It's entirely likely that Leia simply doesn't have time to tend to the garden anymore. Especially not since looking after her husband has become a full-time occupation.

_No thanks to me._

The neighborhood is nice and quiet. They live in a polite little cul-de-sac deep in the suburbs of Chandrila, so the roaring sounds of the city that Kylo is used to is effectively non-existent. It's a nice change of pace. Peaceful, calm. But as he approaches the front door of the house, he knows his momentary respite won't last for long.

He rings the door bell, listens to it chime inside. A part of him panics. He still has time to turn around and drive back to the city if he wants to. He _definitely_ wants to.

The door opens.

It's too late to retreat now.

He has to dip his head down to look Leia in the eye. It's startling how different she looks. Older, wiser. _Tired_. The rich brown hair he remembers her having is now peppered with white and silver, especially at the temples. Her face has aged elegantly, fine lines and wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and brow. Her lips have thinned out, but they still wear the same gentle smile.

She reaches out to hug him, patting him comfortingly on the back. "Welcome home," she whispers.

Kylo hugs her back. Holding his mother feels like a foreign experience, but is somehow familiar all the same. He doesn't know what to say. He's not even sure if there's anything _to_ say. So he settles for hugging Leia and tries not to think about how alarmingly small and frail she's become.

"How was the drive?" she asks, hooking her arm around his to guide him inside.

"Not bad. Nice and light."

"Good. That's good. I heard there might have been delays on the I-43 due to construction."

"Must have missed rush hour."

"I see."

Kylo feels... weird. It's evident that neither of them particularly give a damn about the traffic. They're talking about nothing.

But at least they're _talking_. Thirty seconds in and nobody's screaming, so Kylo's going to count that as a win and roll with it. It's a new world record for them. His phone call the other day had last only fifteen seconds before Leia demanded to know why the hell a stranger was calling her so late claiming to be her son.

_This is one of those scams, isn't it? You're not going to trick me out of my social security number._

Her initial inability to recognize his voice had hurt him, but he understood all the same. He had barely recognized her voice, too.

Time tends to do that to a person's memories.

And the distance he chose will forever be his burden to bare. The guilt has been eating away at him for years, but he's here now. He's here now and in some, small way, he's proud of himself for that.

"I'm glad that you're here," Leia tells him as they enter the living room. It's a rustic space, decorated like they live out on a ranch somewhere in the mid-west. Kylo knows that his mother was originally born and raised in Alderaan, a rich farming community that boasted fields of gold wheat and corn. Maybe decorating the house this way makes her feel more comfortable, more at home.

"I'm sorry to be an inconvenience," he says, muttering under his breath. He doesn't know why he feels the need to tip-toe around the subject. He called his mother, practically hyperventilating not even twelve hours before.

"I'll show you to your room."

"I know where my room is, Mom."

"We turned it into an office space after you..."

He clears his throat. "Right."

Looks like they're going to tip-toe around, after all.

"All of your stuff is still there," she assures. "We just had to turn my old office space into a room for your father since he can't use the stairs."

He takes a deep breath. "How is he?"

"A royal pain in my ass."

"Unsurprising."

Leia chuckles. "He's good. He was actually very happy to hear that you were coming to visit." And then, much softer, "He's missed you a lot. We all have."

Something sharp stabs him in the chest, his fight or flight instincts finally kicking into high gear. He thought he was ready for this. He thought he was finally strong enough to come home and face his biggest fears, face the family he'd left behind. But now all he wants is to make a break for the door.

He could do it, too. It'd take four or five long strides and he'd be back outside in a jiffy. It's not like Leia is in any condition to chase after him anymore.

That thought makes him sadder still. Leia used to chase him up and down these very halls when he was a boy, always able to catch him and drag him off to take his bath. Now Kylo's biggest worry is that if he does bolt and Leia runs after, she might slip on the hallway rug and tumble and hurt herself. He honestly isn't sure when she became so fragile to him.

All parents do, he supposes, at some point or another.

"Let's put your things down," she suggests gently. "Then we'll go and see him, hm?"

Kylo nods, throat impossibly dry.

He's shown to his room. It used to be the guest room/storage room when he was but a boy. Now it's full of his things, all neatly preserved. Almost like he never left.

His posters are still here, hanging on the walls. Kylo wonders if Leia put them up all by herself, or if she had Uncle Chewie or Uncle Luke to help her get to those particularly high places. There's a shelf full of his old trophies, too, all covered in a thin layer of dust. There's one from the time his school's soccer team won first place at state. There's one from the time he earned the top academic award in the eighth grade. There's also a plaque from the local Chandrila chili cookout that he won with Uncle Luke when he was only thirteen years old.

He smiles at his things, thinking back with a warmth he hasn't felt in ages. It's odd how much of a guest he feels like in his own home. He was a part of its history, but now he feels too far removed.

Kylo sets his bag down -it's got a few shirts, clean pants, and notably _nothing_ to do with cooking- at the foot of the bed.

He steels himself for what's about to happen next.

It's long overdue. He can't keep running from his past forever.

Leia takes him back downstairs and guides him toward what has now transformed into Han's room. It's understandable that he'd be relocated to the first floor where it's easier to get him in and out. Kylo distinctly remembers sending a healthy check to install an elevator, but Leia had declined citing the lack of enough support beams throughout the house.

He sends money often, knowing full well that Han was the main income owner of the household. It was true that Leia had a nice pension plan in place from her brief time as a senator, but with all the medical bills and household upkeep... Sending them a part of his salary every month is his way of helping out, even if it's distant and impersonal. 

Han lies in the center of a custom-ordered bed, one designed with an adjustable bed frame so that he can choose to sit upright or lay flat with the touch of a button. The room is very much like the living room, full of color and woodwork for a nice cohesive, welcoming feel. In the opposite corner is an electric wheelchair, tucked away to recharge. It's an older model, not too flashy and without all the bells and whistles.

"The prodigal son returns," Han says with a good natured chuckle.

The term stings, but Kylo knows he deserves it.

"Hi, Dad."

"Come here. Let me look at my boy."

Kylo approaches slowly, like he's afraid. Deep down, he _is_ afraid.

Leia aged with grace. Han, on the other hand, looks like an entirely different person.

Kylo remembers a man who towered over everyone in the room. Someone with a big, commanding voice who was able to charm everyone he came across. Kylo remembers a father with snark and sass. A man who knew what he wanted and lived by no one else's rules. He remembers a man who ran his mechanic shop with an iron fist, taking no prisoners when it came to half-assed jobs.

That sounds awfully familiar. Kylo figures he must get that part of himself from Han. Who knew he had so much of his father's heart in him?

Now the man before Kylo looks nothing like the man he once knew. Han is a lot smaller, skinnier due to loss of muscle. His hair is almost completely grey, and his face sags in several places. His eyes are the same, though. Full of kindness, full of mischief. When Han smiles at him, there isn't a hint of sadness or disappointment or anger like Kylo thought would come to pass.

There's nothing but forgiveness.

Kylo sits down on a vacant chair next to Han's bed, Leia sitting directly next to him in another. Ben leans forward, allowing his father to reach up and brush his fingers up against the faded scar on his cheek.

"This healed nicely," Han says fondly. "That's too bad. I hear chicks dig scars."

Kylo wants to laugh. He wants to cry. He settles for a wistful smile. "My girl seems to like me just fine."

Han gasps. "You have a girl?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Is this like the time you said you had a girlfriend in middle school, but she turned out to be imaginary?"

"You're never going to let that one go, huh?"

"You just didn't want me to chaperone you to the school dance."

"Because you were going to get all dressed up in that ugly velvet suit of yours and insist on taking pictures."

"It's a rite of passage, son."

"I don't believe you for a second."

"What's her name, then? If you haven't made her up."

Kylo smiles. "Her name's Rey. She's my sous chef."

Leia chuckles. "Oh my. A workplace romance? What's she like?"

"Feisty," he replies, easily imagining the fire behind her beautiful eyes. "Tough. But sweet, too. She can cook circles around me."

"I like her already. We'd love to meet her one day."

"Yeah. I want you to meet her, too."

A heavy pause falls over them. Kylo isn't sure what to say or do. He doesn't know how to begin. What is he supposed to say after a decade away without so much as a phone call? He'd left in such a hurry after the accident, blinded by his shame and guilt and anger. But he's older now. Wiser. A whole lot less brash and impulsive, as hard as that may be to believe.

This is a Band-Aid that he needs to rip off.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out, unable to meet his father's gaze. "I'm so sorry. For everything. I should have listened to you guys. I should have listened to Uncle Luke. Snoke was a mistake and you told me as much but I wouldn't listen." His face warms with remorse, vision blurring with tears he has no control over. He’s a little boy again, no longer a man. "I shouldn't have gone to Paris. I shouldn't have-"

Leia hushes him, gingerly rubbing his shoulders while Han places a hand on his son's lowered head.

"Stop it, son," Han says firmly. "What's done is done. There's no point beating yourself up about the past."

"But you're like this because of _me_."

"No. I'm like this because that asshole got drunk behind the wheel and swerved into our lane."

"You wouldn't have been out on the road if I hadn't asked you to pick me up."

" _Ben_."

Kylo cringes. It all comes rushing back to him.

Being picked up at the airport, the awful fight they got into about life choices. God. He doesn't even remember what the fight was about specifically, just that he was mad and shouting at his father at the top of his lungs. He remembers the terrible rainstorm they drove through to get home, the blinding lights of a pickup truck careening towards them, the panic, Han cranking the wheel to try and avoid a collision but it was too little too late.

And as the front ends of both vehicles crunch together, the frightened call of Han screaming his son's name.

_BEN!_

It's haunted him, the same sound on repeat, looping over and over and over again to remind him of that awful night. His name is a part of every one of his nightmares. He can't bare to hear it, can't deal with the pain that it brings him. It's easier to be someone else, easier to pretend like his past doesn't exist rather than deal with it.

"I'm sorry I didn't come home sooner," Kylo mutters pathetically. "I know you're mad at me."

Leia shakes her head. "We were never mad at you," she whispers.

"Disappointed, then."

"Never," Han says. "We just didn't want to see you throw your life away."

"We've always wanted you here," Leia adds. "But we knew you had to choose to come back. Nobody could force you."

"I regret taking as long as I did."

"Let the past stay in the past," Leia coos, brushing some of Kylo's hair out of his eyes. "All that matters now is that you're here."

"Still. I'm so sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for."

"It was an accident," Han reminds. "It _wasn't_ your fault."

He smiles weakly, understandably drained. "I love you both."

"We know," Han says with a smirk.

Leia curls into him and hugs him tight while Han squeezes his hand. Kylo's still shaky, but he feels a million tons lighter. Bubbly, even. Like all of his troubles are starting to evaporate and rise into nothingness. He didn't know how much he needed his family until this moment. It's startling how much Snoke has managed to rip away from him.

But not anymore.

"How about you wash up?" asks Leia. "I've got a lasagna in the oven. We can have dinner and you can tell us all about your job."

He grimaces. "Or lack thereof. We, uh... We have a lot to catch up on."

"Forget the job," Han mutters. "I want to hear more about this imaginary girlfriend of yours."

"She's not imaginary."

"Uh-huh."

"She's real, Dad."

"Sure, sure."

"I'm serious."

"I'll believe you when I see her."

His mother smiles, kissing him on the temple. He closes his eyes and relaxes.

He's safe.

He's home.


	25. Unemployed and In Love

_[Kylo] I'm here. I miss you._

Rey reads his text over and over again until the words are seared into the back of her eyes. She misses him, too. A lot. Rey can feel it in her bones, in the way she constantly looks to her left expecting him to be there. She's sure she'll have the kitchen running smoothly, but there's no denying how different it will feel being at the front of the line all alone.

Except she's not alone. Not really.

Snoke pulls her into the kitchen office as soon as she arrives at The First Order, seething. His eyes were blood shot with controlled rage, the vein at his temple pulsing.

"What's the meaning of this?" he asks, holding up what she assumes is Kylo's resignation letter. "Did he say anything to you? Where is he?"

"It's as much of a surprise to you as it is to me," she says in as even a tone as she can muster.

"That ungrateful little..." Snoke grumbles something under his breath. What it is, Rey can't be sure, though she knows it's likely nothing flattering. "No matter. I was going to get rid of him sooner or later."

"W-what?"

"Don't worry about it, my dear. It's just business."

Rey's stomach flips. She doesn't believe Snoke for a second. She gets the sense that this is a lot more personal than he's letting on.

"Have you thought much more about my offer?" he asks, shredding Kylo's letter into tiny pieces before carelessly tossing it in the nearby garbage bin.

She steels herself, standing that much straighter and holding her head high. "I have."

"Excellent. Which restaurant would you like to run? Obviously The First Order is now available to-"

"Actually," she says quickly, "I've decided to decline."

Snoke freezes. Insulted. In disbelief. He looks like he's been slapped clean across the face. Rey wonders, ever so briefly, if she should.

"You decline?" he echoes, words dripping with something cold and cruel.

"Your offer was most gracious," Rey replies politely. "But I believe such an opportunity should go to someone much more deserving. I still have a lot to learn in my role as sous chef, and I cannot confidentially say that I will be able to lead an entire restaurant at my current skill level."

She's stiff in her delivery, but only because she's rehearsed her little spiel in the mirror too many times to count. A deliberately crafted speech designed to be polite, but direct. Snoke has one of two options: accept, or lose his shit. Rey sincerely doubts he's willing to come out as the true snake in human flesh that he is, so it comes as no surprise when Snoke relaxes into a smile.

A venomous smile, but it's better than the alternative.

"I hope you understand how rare my offer is," he says slowly. "I could turn you into a star, my dear. Even greater than Kylo ever was. Under my tutelage, there isn't anywhere in the world you can't go without someone knowing your name. Think about it a little harder, Rey. Fame, fortune, your own restaurant, even your own cooking show. Kylo never liked the spotlight. But you? You could shine, my dear. Brighter than anyone else. I could give you everything."

Rey bites down on her tongue. There are only two things she really wants: to find her parents, and to be with Kylo.

And she isn't willing to sacrifice herself to Snoke to achieve either of those goals.

She forces a smile. "Like I said, sir. I'm afraid I will have to decline. But thank you."

Snoke's expression darkens. "I will not ask again, Rey."

"And I won't answer again."

"Then you leave me no choice."

"Pardon?"

He turns toward the office door. "Hux, my boy. Come on in, please."

Her stomach lurches as she spots a familiar tuft of red hair and a smarmy grin walk in to the small space. There's triumph in Hux's eyes. Rey's never wanted to punch someone more.

"What's going on?" she demands, unable to shake the uneasiness in her tone. She's out numbered now, and Hux has made no secret of his distaste for her.

"I was curious to learn about Hux's termination," Snoke says simply. "Kylo normally informs me of such things. I reached out to learn the full story."

"There was always something about you that bothered me," Hux sneers. "Nobody seemed to notice, but I did. I did some digging, asked around. Kylo isn't the only one with connections. I called a few schools, but nobody knows who you are." He folds his arms across his chest, puffing it out like he's won. "You never went to culinary school, Rey. You lied. And now Kylo isn't here to protect you anymore."

Snoke shakes his head. "I was willing to overlook this when I first found out. You clearly have talent, and I'm all for defending my head chefs for the sake of my restaurant's reputations. But now that you've declined..."

Rey blanches. No words come to mind. Her guts are in a knot and her stomach is seconds away from throwing up her breakfast.

She could beg. Beg to keep her job, beg Snoke to overlook her lack of formal education, beg them not to tell anybody.

But she knows better. She's too smart and too proud and too strong to let people like Snoke and Hux walk all over her. It's all business to them. Soulless and calculated and all for the sake of climbing to the top to rake in the cash. And while having a steady paycheck with a healthy excess to save away to help find her parents, Rey has never seen food the way they do.

Food is beautiful. It brings people together, feeds both the stomach and the soul. Her happiest memories are of her and her parents at the dinner table, feasting on the simplest of meals while enjoying each other's companies. Her happiest memories are of her and Kylo in the kitchen together, learning from each other. It's their way of showing how much they care.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Hux asks, so clearly pleased with himself it's almost painfully infuriating.

"Thank you."

"What?"

"Thank you. For helping me realize what a garbage place this is." Rey takes off her apron and tosses at Hux. He doesn't catch it in time, so it hits him square in the face. "I quit," she announces before turning to leave.

"Well, looks like the head chef position's all yours," Snoke says.

"I can't wait to get started," Hux replies.

Rey doesn't bother sticking around to listen to the rest of their conversation. She follows in Kylo's footsteps and walks straight out the door.

She's free.

* * *

The gravity of the situation doesn't really hit her until she returns home and proceeds to count her tin of hidden cash. She does this every day, at least once -sometimes more than that when she's particularly anxious- as a sort of soothing ritual. Rey counts and counts and then she counts again, the sinking feeling in her chest spreading to her core.

She's two grand short. Just two thousand dollars away from what she needs to hire Maz Kanata. A measly two thousand away from finding her parents.

Tears sting her eyes as a pressure builds inside her skull. She was so _close_.

Rey sits on the edge of her bed, exhausted and a little shaky, convincing herself that there's nothing she could do. Rey doesn't know what this will mean for her future. Knowing Snoke's slimy nature and Hux's vindictive streak, they may very well drag her name through the dirt and blacklist her all over town.

Even still, leaving was the only option, especially now that the jig is up. Especially now that Hux is back. Especially now that Kylo isn't there. She can always find another job. She's scrappy that way. But still, the pang of knowing how close she came seeps into her marrow and leaves her bitter inside.

"Stupid Snoke," she grumbles to herself as she lays her head down on the pillow. "Stupid Hux."

Rey isn't entirely sure when sleep takes hold of her, but the next thing she knows, her phone's blowing up with all sorts of messages.

_[Rose] Where are you? Are you okay?_

_[Finn] Hey peanut! Just checking up on you. Text me back asap!_

_[Poe] WHY THE FUCK IS THE GINGER BACK I CAN'T-_

_[Poe] REY PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE COMING BACK!_

_[Poe] OH GOD HE'S IN CHARGE!?_

_[Poe] I WISH FOR A SWIFT AND PAINLESS DEATH I-_

She doesn't have the strength to text them back just yet. She knows she needs to tell her friends the truth sooner rather than later. Lord knows Hux will have no problem spewing all sorts of hate. A part of her is worried that her friends will come to resent her just as Hux had -though he was always a spiteful little bitch, but still. What if Rose, Finn, and Poe think she's full of it? She needs to reach out and be honest with them.

But not now. Not when she's tired and adrift and unsure what to do next.

She sends them each a quick message to say she's fine and that she'll explain things later. Rey rolls over in bed, partly sleepy, partly grumpy. She should have known Hux would be back to stir the pot. Rats always find a way to survive, after all.

There's really only one person she wants to talk to right now, but she isn't sure if Kylo is busy or not. She sends a quick text to double check.

_[Rey] Hey, can I call you?_

_[Rey] If not, it's not a big dea-_

She doesn't even finish typing up her sentence. Her phone starts to ring, a familiar name popping up on her screen.

He's FaceTiming her.

She quickly runs her fingers through her hair to brush it out and wipes the weariness from her eyes before answering.

"You don't have to ask for permission to call me, sweetheart," he says the second she picks up.

God. It never ceases to amaze her how handsome he looks. Kylo actually looks quite refreshed, like he's managed a decent night's sleep. His hair is pulled into a half-up, half-down situation, giving Rey ample time to take in the hard line of his jaw and the thickness of his neck. It's then, and only then, that she realizes he's shirtless.

Shirtless and sweaty.

 _Yum_.

"I didn't want to disturb you," she says with a light giggle, snuggling into her pillow. "What are you doing right now?"

"I was just out for a run."

"Didn't take you for much of a jogger."

"I don't like to run in the city. Too much going on. Streets are quiet here, though."

"Where are you now?"

"Just got back to my parents' house. I'm on the porch." He moves the phone in a way to show off his surroundings. There are manicured lawns and expensive SUVs in most driveways and houses lined up in neat little rows. The sun looks to be setting where he is, painting the sky a soft pink and orange. The house in question looks lovely, the epitome of suburban life.

Rey laughs. "I believe you. How are things? With your parents, I mean."

"Good, actually. Better than I thought. Wait. What time is it? Aren't you supposed to be at the restaurant right now?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got time."

"You should go home before you catch a chill. I don't want you to get sick."

"Aww, you worried about me?"

"Always."

"What happened, Rey?"

"I don't want to stress you out."

"You do understand that _not_ telling me stresses me out more, right?"

Rey takes a deep breath. "I told Snoke I wasn't going to take his offer. He wasn't very happy about it."

"And then what happened?"

"Well, then he brought Hux in and-"

"Hux?"

"Yeah."

"What the fuck?"

"I'm..." Rey shakes her head. "Hux found out. That I didn't go to culinary school. I don't know if he had any hard proof, but I was so stunned that I didn't deny it. I just kind of left after that."

"Oh, God, Rey. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. As weird as that might sound. I'm just tired."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know how important that job was to you."

"Don't be sorry, baby. I'm sure I'll land on my feet." 

"I should be there with you."

"No. I don't want you to worry about me."

"I always worry about you."

Behind him, Rey can see the front door to the house swing open, a flood of golden light pouring out onto the porch. She can just make out the silhouette of an older woman.

"I thought I heard you out here," the woman says. "Who are you talking to?"

"Rey," Kylo answers.

" _Oh_ , I want to meet her. Let me see!"

"No need to grab, Mom."

There's a bit of a shuffle, but the phone's camera eventually falls on her face. Rey sits up in bed, smiling in the hopes of making a good first impression.

"Hello, ma'am," Rey greets. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Oh, you weren't lying when you said she's gorgeous. Hi, dear. Please, just call me Leia."

"What's happening?" comes yet another voice, this time from a gruff sounding man.

"Han, look! Isn't she beautiful?"

The next person Rey sees is an older gentleman with silver hair and bushy eyebrows. She's inside their home, she realizes, catching a glimpse of Kylo's childhood surroundings.

The man -Han- smiles. He sits rather stiffly in a high-back leather armchair. "Would you look at that? Looks like you're not an imaginary girlfriend, after all."

"Jesus Christ," Kylo grumbles somewhere in the background. "Can I please have my phone back?"

"Yes, but only if you put on a shirt," Leia replies. "You're going to catch a chill."

"That's what I said," Rey notes with a light laugh.

"Go on. Upstairs with you." Leia turns to face the screen. "Sorry about him. He's always been such a stubborn boy."

"That's alright. I can handle it."

"Ben tells me you're a sous chef."

 _Ben_. Rey's smile tightens ever so slightly. She promises herself she won't push, even despite her confusion.

"Um, yeah," she says quietly. "I mean, I _was_ a sous chef. I actually quit earlier today."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. The First Order just wasn't a good fit for me, that's all."

"That's life, isn't it?"

"I suppose this means you have a lot of free time on your hands now, eh?" Han asks.

"I guess so."

Han and Leia exchange a look, grinning to one another.

"If that's the case," Leia starts, "you're more than welcome to come stay with us for a little while. I'm sure Ben would love your company. Lord knows we'd love to get to know you better."

Rey blinks, flushing in surprise. "That's really generous of you, but I wouldn't want to impose."

"Nonsense, dear, we'd love to have you." Leia turns to shout over her shoulder. "Isn't that right, Ben?"

Kylo's returned, dressed in a tight grey shirt that shows off the width of his chest and his ridiculously strong arms. Rey thinks it's a significant improvement over the rest of his black wardrobe.

"A little privacy, please?" he says curtly, taking his phone back from his mother. He moves down what looks to be a long hall, leaving his parents in a separate room. "I'm sorry about them. They're as chaotic as I remember them being."

"I don't mind. They seem really sweet."

"You're more than welcome to, by the way. To visit. Stay. Meet the parents in person. If you want."

Something giddy bubbles within her chest. "I'd love to, but that's a pretty big step. Are we ready for something like that?"

"We will be. When I tell you everything."

"Kylo, if you're not ready-"

"I want to. I can tell you in person when I pick you up?"

Rey smiles wide, breathing suddenly that much easier. "Yeah," she whispers. "You know what? Yeah. Come pick me up. A little time away from the city might be good for me, too. I'll pack a bag."

"Awesome. I can't wait to see you."

"Me, too."

They pause, both smiling like idiots.

"Hang up, dummy," she says, holding back a laugh.

"No, you hang up."

"Oh my God, we're not doing this."

"Then hang up first."

"Maybe I will."

"Do it," he dares.

She can't bring herself to. "No, _you_."

"Oh my God," Han sighs dramatically somewhere in the background. "I will pick myself up out of this chair and hang up _for_ you."

Kylo chuckles. "I'll see you soon, sweetheart."

"Alright, alright. I'll see you soon, baby."

She ends up hanging up first, but it's no matter. She rolls over onto her back and beams at the ceiling. Today might have started rough, but the promise of seeing Kylo soon makes it a million times better.

She might be unemployed, but she sure as hell is in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't already, check out my other WIP: [ The Children of the Five Kingdoms](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28942725/chapters/71471061)! Chapter 3 is out now!


	26. Ben [NSFW]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 600+ KUDOS AT 15K+ HITS YOU GUYS ARE SPOILING ME THANK YOU SO MUCH!
> 
> CW for car accidents and resulting trauma. Please mind the tags and take care of yourselves.
> 
> Also also marking this chapter NSFW for explicit sexual content between our protagonists.

He knocks on her door, smiling wide when she comes to answer. She throws her arms around him in an instant, pressing her face into the crook of his neck.

"You're here early," she mutters against his skin.

He breathes her in. "I floored it so I could see you."

"You shouldn't speed."

"Sorry."

Rey giggles. "No, you're not."

He laughs with her. "No, I'm not." He plants a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Can we talk inside?"

"Of course. Whatever you'd like."

Rey guides him over to the couch, sitting down directly next to him so that she can play with her hair. It's an exchange of sweet touches, gentle caresses. He has a hand on her knee while she brushes the hair at the nape of his neck.

All is calm, all is right. He closes his eyes and collects his thoughts. He had the whole drive back to the city to think about it, but now that he's here, words elude him.

She gives him all the time he needs.

"Do you know who my grandfather is?" he asks eventually.

Rey shakes her head. "Should I?"

"Maybe. Ever heard of Anakin Skywalker?"

She raises her eyebrows. " _The_ Anakin Skywalker? He's a legend. He pretty much brought haute cuisine as we know it to America. I think my mother had an entire collection of his cookbooks."

"Yeah. Pops was pretty great. He was the one who introduced me to it all. Cooking, food in general." He smiles to himself. "My fondest memories were when he'd let me help him bake cookies to bring to my Grandma Padmé and Mom. The look on their faces... It was something special. It made them happy, which made me happy.

"I remember one winter, Uncle Luke came down with the flu. I must have been ten or eleven? I can't remember. But I took it upon myself to make him chicken noodle soup from scratch. He perked right up. Said that it was delicious, the best thing he'd ever eaten. He looked so proud. That was when I knew I wanted to be a chef like him and Pops.

"I set my sights on Ahch-To. All kids with culinary dreams do. I worked my fucking ass off to get in, and when I did, I was over the moon." He swallows thickly. "But there were a lot of people who didn't believe I deserved to be there."

Rey frowns. "Why?"

"The other students said it was nepotism. My grandfather founded the school and my uncle was the head instructor there. It didn't take very long before the rumors got back to me. And it was... shitty, I guess. Yeah. Really fucking shitty. Because I worked really hard to earn my spot and I felt like I constantly had to prove myself. But not matter what I did, classmates assumed that teachers gave me high marks because of who I was.

"Nobody was willing to give me a shadow of a doubt. Nobody thought I had talent and... I started to doubt myself. I started to wonder if maybe it _was_ because of my family and my connections. My parents assured me that I had a gift. Luke wouldn't stop singing my praises. But I just couldn't believe them anymore. And then you showed up."

"Me?"

He smiles fondly. "I remember thinking how weird you were. How green and inexperienced."

"Well, I _was_ new."

"Yeah, but... The way you lit up every time we had class -it was refreshing. You were so full of life. You were excited to be there. You weren't arrogant or pompous like the other students. And you genuinely didn't seem to know who I was, which was a plus. Whenever we had group assignments, nobody would pair up with me. Except you. In fact, I'm pretty sure you actively volunteered to be my partner."

Rey grins. "I was excited to work with you. I thought you were sweet."

He takes her hand and gives her fingers a squeeze. "I thought you were sweet, too." His expression falls, however, eyes growing cloudy. "But then you left all of a sudden. I didn't even know how to reach you. I asked around, but nobody seemed to know where you went."

"I didn't mean to leave."

"I know that now. But it still sucked because my one friend there was gone, and suddenly I was back to where I was, blocking out the whispers while trying to convince myself I deserved a place there. And I... I don't know. Things got pretty bad for me. Luke was always a little harder on me than the rest of the students, maybe because he was mindful about coming across as preferential. But that just made things worse.

"I started to really hate it. I lost sight of why I wanted to be a chef in the first place. But I was young and stubborn and I was bitter and I wanted to prove everyone wrong."

He takes a deep breath. Rey continues to play with his hair, soothing the tension away where her fingers graze against his scalp.

"And then Snoke arrived," he continues softly. "Him and a bunch of other industry-related folks. Restauranteurs, other chefs. We had a showcase of sorts at the school that year. Snoke seemed particularly interested in the dishes I presented. It was the first time in years that someone complimented my work and _meant_ it. And I ate it up like the idiot I was because that was just how starved I was for some sort of recognition."

Rey shifts uncomfortably, worry beginning to mar her brow.

"He offered me an apprenticeship at one of his restaurants in Paris after the showcase. I couldn't believe my luck. I thought it was the perfect opportunity to finally put my skills to use. When I told my parents, I thought they'd see it that way, too. I told Luke, as well, but they all told me that it was a bad idea. I didn't understand. I was frustrated with them. It felt like they were trying to hold me back. Luke explained that there was some... less than savory rumors surrounding Snoke that worried him."

"Rumors?" Rey asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"Little things here and there. Apparently he had a reputation of working his employees until they passed out. Or that he'd find sneaky ways to cut their pay. Nothing that could be confirmed. Nobody was willing to speak up about it, and those that were said that it was just slander his competition was throwing around to discredit him.

"Luke said that working for Snoke was a bad idea. My parents were equally against my moving to Paris. But I was just so unhappy with the way things were, and Snoke said that I had a lot of promise. So I agreed to work with him and it was actually really great.

"He took care of everything. Found me an apartment in Paris, paid for French lessons, allowed me to come up with my own dishes while I worked there. He complimented me at every turn and it was exhilarating. I convinced myself that everyone else was wrong. The rumors were wrong. He'd been nothing but good to me and my hard work was finally paying off and he saw that. _Everybody_ started to see that.

"Before I knew it, I was being interviewed by the biggest names in the world of cuisine. Not just interviews, either. Talk show appearances, the cover of cooking magazines. I was hot shit all of a sudden and I loved it. I trusted him. Some days, Snoke was the only one I felt truly had my back.

"But I couldn't escape my name. There was always a caveat. They always linked me back to my grandfather and to Luke, asking if my success could be chalked up to their legacy. And I fucking hated that. Here I was, trying to carve my own way forward, but nobody could see past my family.

"When I brought this up to Snoke, he came up with the idea that I take on a new name. Kind of like a stage name, I guess. Credit where credit is due, Snoke's a marketing genius. He turned me into this..." He gestures with his hands. "Fuck, I don't even know. He turned me into this celebrity chef that everyone wanted a piece of. My past disappeared and I was finally free to do with my future what I wanted. I was grateful to him for that. I could hide behind the name and finally just _be_."

"I see," Rey whispers. "Like wearing a mask."

"Exactly. But it was a mask that I never took off." His head dips down, shame washing over his face. "I got comfortable being Kylo. Comfortable in the life he had. And then one day, I get this call from Luke. I hadn't heard from him in almost two years, so I figured it must have been important. When I answered, he informed me that Mom was sick. She had been for a while, actually, but nobody wanted to reach out. Not until it was bad enough that she was in the hospital. Snoke let me fly out to see my family. Paid for my flight, too. Said I could take as much time as I needed."

He takes a long pause, the back of his throat closing up uncomfortably as the memories wash over him. Rey -bless her soul- waits patiently, tracing the back of his hand with the pad of her thumb.

"Dad was the one who picked me up at the airport. My plane arrived really late at night and it was raining." He sucks a sharp breath. "The storm of the fucking century, Rey. It was..." His voice cracks, wavers. He wants to cry, but his pushes through it. "Dad and I got into a fight. I wanted to know why nobody told me about Mom, about her health. Dad said something along the lines that it was my fault for not reaching out first. I can't really remember what else was said, all I know is that I was fucking furious.

"Dad wasn't paying attention to the road. That was my fault. If I'd just kept my cool, maybe he would have seen the oncoming car sooner. The other driver was drunk, but still. If I hadn't-"

A sob escapes him and the tears follow soon after. Rey holds him close, pressing kisses against hair while rubbing his back. He holds her like a lifeline, the vanilla scent of her skin the only thing keeping him sane.

"The last thing I remember before the crash was Dad calling my name. When I woke up in the hospital, it was a week later. Broke my arm, fractured a few of my ribs, had the concussion of a fucking lifetime. I kept asking for my dad. I remember screaming for him, for someone to tell me what the hell was going on. I thought-" He swallows hard. "I thought the worst. I thought he was dead and it was all my fault.

"Luke was the one who came to visit me first. He told me that Dad was alive, but in really rough shape. The crash left him paralyzed from the waist down. He managed to turn the car away so that he took most of the impact instead of me. And I've... I've never been able to forgive myself for that. He wound up hurt because he was trying to protect me, even after- Even after everything. Even though I was a terrible son."

"You're not a terrible son," Rey insists.

"I am. I really am."

"No, you're not." She kisses his forehead, the tip of his nose. She wipes at his teary eyes with her fingers and then kisses his eyelids. "It was an accident."

"That didn't stop me from feeling guilty. I couldn't look my parents in the eye. I couldn't stand to see what I'd done to my father. And Luke... God, Luke looked so fucking disappointed in me. I didn't stay very long. I couldn't. I had to leave. The second I was well enough, I got on the first flight to Paris. It made me feel even more guilty to abandon them, but I couldn't stand how quiet that fucking house got now that Dad was...

"Snoke was patient with me at first. Really understanding. It felt good to be back with someone who I didn't think was judging me all the time. But slowly, over time... Things with him started to change. No matter what I did, no matter what new recipes I came up with, nothing was ever good enough. He didn't seem that impressed when I earned my first Michelin. He was more focused on getting my second. And then my third. There was always something else I could be doing, something else I needed to aim for.

"He kept pushing and pushing and pushing until there was nothing left. He capitalized off of my success. Started treating me more like an investment than a person. But I couldn't leave because I felt indebted to him. I couldn't go home because I didn't want to face my family. I was just so lost. I've been lost for a very long time. I thought if I threw myself into my work, I could keep going. Well, we both know how that turned out."

He leans back, shoulders lumping with exhaustion. "So... Yeah. That's everything, I think."

Rey cups his face and smiles gently. "Thank you for telling me. I know that couldn't have been easy."

"You deserve to know because... I want to know everything about you, Rey. And I want you to know everything about me. I want you to meet my parents. I want us to have a future, whatever that looks like. And I know I have a lot of work to do. I know I have a temper and talking openly like this is going to be fucking hard, but I want to be better. I want to be better for you because I'm in love with you.

"I'm in love with you, Rey. And I know that's probably really soon, but the only time I've ever been able to feel good and feel like my old self is when I'm with you, so-"

She grasps at the collar of his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss, cutting him off mid-sentence. He leans into her, realizing just how much he's missed the taste of her tongue and the softness of her lips.

"I'm in love with you, too," she mumbles against him, grinning. "I'm in love with you, Kylo."

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Will you... Will you call me Ben?"

She beams, her face brighter than the sun. He realizes just how fitting her name is. She's his ray of sunshine. She's a breath of fresh mountain air. She's the warmth of a calm fire in the middle of a dark winter evening. She's absolutely everything to him, so when she opens her mouth to say his name, the world suddenly clicks into place and makes sense.

"Ben," she whispers, so soft, so sweet. Rey kisses the tip of his nose again. "Ben." She kisses the corner of his mouth. "Ben." She kisses him fervently on the lips. "Ben."

He kisses her back, lightheaded and alleviated and so damn overjoyed. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her onto his lap so he's straddled between her thighs, mouthing hungrily at her lips, down her jawline, the front of her throat. He sucks hard, leaving marks on her skin as reminder to himself that she's here. She's really here and his and he's never been more happy.

It doesn't take long before a tight heat begins to grow deep within his core, his cock throbbing with desire. Rey grinds her hips against him, sending pleasure shooting through his system. He'd be perfectly happy to keep kissing her, but he needs more. He _craves_ more. Judging by the way Rey clings to him, fingers carding through his hair as she groans and rotates her hips, she needs him just as much.

"Can I take you to the bedroom?" he asks, gruff and barely in control. "Will you let me make love to you?"

"Yes," she blurts out with a gasp. "Yes, Ben. _Yes_."

He lifts her up and carries her down the hall, mouth never once leaving her. He doesn't have time to take in her bedroom, choosing instead to zone in on the bed tucked into its corner. He sets her down gingerly on her back, eagerly pulling off her clothes. He kisses every inch of her bare skin that he can get his lips on, only taking pause once she's fully naked beneath him.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he murmurs, committing her form to memory. There's something ethereal about the way the moonlight paints her curves.

He tosses off his own shirt, cool air hitting his overheated skin. He shimmies out of his jeans and boxer briefs, too, practically aching to be in her arms again. When he returns, he settles near the foot of the bed so that he can rest between her legs, kissing the insides of her thighs.

Rey lets her head fall back against her pillow as he moves in to tease her entrance with the tip of his tongue. She tastes a bit salty, but not in a bad way. He drinks her in, eager for more, flicking his tongue over her clit in a way that makes her toes curl and her back arch.

"Ben!"

He doesn't recoil when he hears his name this time. It's still weird to him, but he knows he'll get used to it. Especially if it's her calling his name.

"I'm right here, sweetheart."

"I need-"

"Tell me."

"Your fingers. Please, I want-"

"Don't worry, I've got you."

Rey's nice and slick, so he's able to slide two of his thick fingers inside with ease. He curls them, working her sweet spot while his tongue drives her wild. The sounds of her wonton moans has him impossibly hard, but he's perfectly happy to stay where he is. Rey's a sight to behold, an honest to goodness work of art. He regrets not getting to do this sooner, but he understands how invaluable the short time away has been. He sees everything clearer now.

He meant what he said. He wants to be better.

For both of them.

Rey whines his name, her walls tightening around his fingers. " _Ben._ "

"Cum, sweetheart. I want to feel you cum. Come on, Rey."

A string of curses falls from her lips as trembles wrack her body, pleasure leaving patches of her skin flushed with arousal. He removes his fingers and licks at her quivering entrance, savoring her juices.

"Good girl," he hums, getting up onto his knees. "Condom?"

"Bedside drawer," she says between pants. "Check the expiry date, though."

He retrieves the item in question and verifies. "They're still good. Been a while since you had to use these, I take it?"

Rey chuckles, bringing a hand up to hide her face. "Hush. I've been busy at work. My old boss used to keep me at all hours. Didn't leave much time for a social life."

He slips the condom on, returning to his place between Rey's soft thighs. "Your old boss sounds like an ass."

"I think he's pretty great, actually."

"I'm going to put it in now. Is that alright?"

Rey circles his neck with her arms and pulls him down for a quick kiss. "Yes. Yes, please."

He moves slowly, mostly for his sake because Rey feels so fucking good he might cum then and there. The head of his cock is particularly sensitive, pleasure sparking from nerves to nerve. It's almost enough to leave him winded and seeing spots, but he holds off.

He wants to show her just how much she means to him.

His pace is slow, the drag of his cock against the ribbed walls of her cunt excruciatingly delightful. He continues to mark her delicate skin, works up a sweat to see her so completely undone. Open-mouthed kisses mix the sounds of their languid groans, their animalistic grunts, their passionate pleas for _more please fuck more_.

Suddenly emboldened, Rey hooks a leg over his hip and uses the momentum to roll them over. She looks like a fucking goddess riding him, hair a beautiful mess as her perfect tits bounce with her movements. She rolls her hips, coming down on his shaft in a way that nearly leaves him blind with ecstasy.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Rey."

"God, you feel so good, baby."

"You like fucking yourself on my cock?"

"Yes, Ben. You're so nice and big. Love how you fill me up."

"You're so nice and wet for me. You're going to make me cum in a minute here."

Rey leans forward, the new angle nearly sending him straight over the edge. She presses her forehead to his, their hot breaths ricocheting off each other's cheeks.

"Rey-"

"I want you to cum," she mewls. "I want you to cum, baby. I want to make you feel good."

"I'm really close."

"Me, too. Oh, _God_ , I'm-"

He grabs her by the waist and rapidly fucks up into her, snapping his hips and burying his cock into her tight pussy. The delicious friction sends them both hurtling, the tight coil in the pit of his stomach exploding like a million fireworks in one go. It's the sound that she makes that he truly delights in, a half-sob, half-gasp as her climax rushes through her.

They ride the high together, eventually falling limp in each other's arms. Time passes them by as they kiss lazily, contently.

"Do you have any concealer?" he asks after a while.

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

"You might want to cover those up," he teases, tapping one of the many hickeys he left on Rey's neck. "You know. Before you meet my parents."

Rey blushes and laughs. He laughs with her.

Ben has never felt so wondrously complete before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave a comment. They feed my soul. <3
> 
> If you haven't already, check out my other WIP: [ The Children of the Five Kingdoms](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28942725/chapters/71471061)! Chapter 3 is out now!


	27. The Sun and The Moon

Rey makes it up the first two steps of the porch before Ben takes her hand and gives her fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Are you really, _really_ sure."

"Yes? You're kind of freaking me out, to be honest."

"Sorry, it's just... My parents are really, um..."

"Use your words, baby."

"They can be a lot. Like, _a lot_. I'd be doing you a disservice by not warning you beforehand."

Rey giggles. "I'm sure I can handle-"

The front door to the house swings wide open, a stout older woman bursting forth like someone's lit a fire under her ass.

"SHE'S HERE!" Leia screams, loud enough that Rey actually _flinches_. Rey quickly finds herself swallowed up in the woman's embrace, her face pressed to Leia's bosom. She smells of gingerbread cookies and peppermint. For a second, Rey thinks that she's hugging the embodiment of the Christmas season itself.

Even though it's the middle of February.

"Let me get a good look at you," Leia says, grasping Rey by the shoulders. Rey's never really enjoyed the spotlight, and this sudden rush of attention has her cheeks and the tips of her ears burning red. "Ben was right. An absolute beauty."

Rey grins, shooting him a sideways glance. "He said that?"

"He's been talking non-stop about you."

" _Mom_."

"Come on in, darlings. Let's get you settled. I'll introduce you to Han, later. He's down for a nap right now. His meds make him sleepy, unfortunately."

The first thing that Rey notices is the smell of something delectably aromatic wafting from the open-concept kitchen. There's the unmistakable acidity of a tangy marinara sauce, the mouth-watering richness of browning mozzarella cheese, and the unmistakable combination of crushed garlic and bits of thyme.

"It smells wonderful in here," Rey comments aloud.

"I'm making us lasagna for lunch," Leia explains. "An old family recipe, passed down to me by my grandmother, and passed down to her by her grandmother. Hopefully one day I'll be able to pass it down to you one day, hm?"

The comment is friendly enough, but full of suggestion that Rey isn't entirely prepared to deal with. A part of her really wants a future with Ben, but things are still very new. Rey knows it's just a recipe, but it's the implication of it that has a warmth blooming in her chest. It would mean that she's one of them. And the only way she can officially be one of them is _if_ Ben pops the question and only _if_ Rey accepts.

But surely they're a ways off from that, right? It's much too early to be entertaining thoughts like that.

What they have is really new, a little fragile, a baby bird just learning to spread its wings.

No need to go swan diving off the deep end quite yet. They agreed to go slow. And despite that, this all seems so fast.

No. There's no need to rush at all.

Sensing her discomfort, Ben clears his throat and gently places his hand on the small of her back. "Come on, sweetheart. I'll show you upstairs. And Mom?"

"Hm?"

"I think I smell your garlic toast burning."

Leia mutters a soft ' _goodness me_ ' before scurrying off to the kitchen.

Rey follows Ben up the stairs and down the hall, entering the bedroom with a sense of wonder. As far as childhood bedrooms go, this one doesn't exactly scream out of the ordinary. There are band posters and family photos and little knickknacks scattered about. A typical teenaged boy's room, one frozen in time. It's a little cramped, but that's only because Ben has long since outgrown the space. Rey wonders how on earth a man of his size is able to fit in the double tucked into the corner of the room.

The _singular_ double bed.

"I'll sleep on the couch," Ben says.

"Don't be silly. We can share."

"Are you sure? I want you to be comfortable while you're here."

"I'll be comfortable as long as I'm with you."

Ben gives her the smallest of smiles. It's sweet, almost shy. Rey's suddenly overcome with the urge to pick him up and hide him away in her pocket, as impossible as that may be. She moseys on over so that she can circle his waist with her arms, holding him tight.

"I've been told I snore," he protests with a chuckle.

"And I've been told that I could sleep through a hurricane."

"I'm a blanket hog."

"That's fine. I sleep better when it's cool."

"I also talk in my sleep, too."

Rey laughs. "Do you _want_ to sleep on the couch? It sounds an awful lot like you're trying to convince me not to share a bed with you."

"No, never. _Believe me_. I just want to warn you that this is what you're signing up for." He gestures to himself. "A snoring, blanket hogging, sleep talking mess."

She tilts her chin up and glances at his lips. "I'm all in."

Ben dips down to kiss her chastely, and Rey can't help but notice how different he is the further from the First Order he gets. It's a subtle change, but one she latches on to. He's always been leagues gentler with her compared to everyone else, but especially so now. Tender, adoring. He's still strong and solid, but he's uniquely soft around her. _Only_ for her.

Rey really fucking loves it.

As Ben leans away, Rey gives chase, unwilling to let go of his lips. Her attempt is cut short, however, when Leia calls from the kitchen.

"Ben! Can you do me a favor?"

He sighs. "What is it?"

"Can you run to the farmer's market for me? I need some fresh parmesan. Lasagna's going to be ready in another forty-five minutes."

Rey stands up on her toes, suddenly excited. "You guys have a farmer's market around here?"

Ben smirks. "Uh, yeah?"

"Can I come? I've always wanted to check one out."

"You've never been to a farmer's market? Seriously?"

"Never had the time." And then, much quieter, "Or the money."

A flash of sad understanding sweeps past Ben's dark eyes. He nods once before taking her hands, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. "Then what are we waiting for?"

* * *

It's still really brisk for mid-February, but Rey uses this as an excuse to hold Ben's hand nice and tight.

He, in turn, stuffs both their hands in the pocket of his jacket.

She retaliates by bumping up against him as they walk, arm sealed to arm.

As it turns out, this offers him the perfect angle to press kisses into the top of her hair.

The farmer's market isn't that busy -it's almost noon and a Thursday, so really what was she expecting- but there's still plenty to capture her attention. There are two sections, an outdoor area where vendors' booths are lined up beneath white tents to shield from the cold, as well as an indoor area occupying what looks to be an decommissioned ice rink. There are even more booths there, circling around the perimeter with items on display.

It's overwhelming at first. Rey wants nothing more than run from stall to stall, checking out all the different goods people have to offer. But she also wants to keep holding onto Ben's hand. She's a child in a candy shop, and he's her anchor.

There's all manner of things here. Stalls full of homemade fudge piled high behind glass. Hand-painted art pieces on carved wood. Fresh fruits and vegetables lovingly grown by local farmers. There's an artisan who's crafted an entire display of cheese, the packaging stamped with the business' adorable little logo of a cow jumping over the moon.

Ben zeroes in on a wheel of parmesan. He asks if he can purchase a smaller wedge, to which the vendor says he can.

Rey, meanwhile, is suddenly distracted by the glint of something shiny in the stall not three feet away. There's a printed banner draping over the front of the booth, the business' name on full display: _Jyn and Cassian's Jewelers._ Every inch of surface space is covered in all sorts of rings, bracelets, earrings, necklaces, and hair pins. There's one bracelet in particular that catches her eye, an intricate piece of silver and gold intertwining one another.

"That's a couple's bracelet," the woman standing behind the counter explains. She has a name tag pinned to the front of her shirt: _Jyn_. There's a man beside her, too, and Rey assumes that he must be Cassian.

"Crafted it myself," he states with pride. "The pieces come apart, so you can keep one band and give the other to your partner."

"It's lovely," Rey replies and means it. It really is a gorgeous peace. Simple, elegant. She can easily imagine the silver portion of the bracelet around Ben's wrist, gold one on hers.

"You seem like a sweet girl," Jyn says. "Tell you what, I'll give it to you for half off. Call it eighty bucks?"

Rey's smile is stiff. She appreciates the offer, but money's always been a terrible pinch point for her. A mental block. An impossible mental barrier that she can't figure out how to climb over. She's spent so long collecting every penny, hoarding ever dollar that it just doesn't feel right to spend it on something so frivolous. She's always been this way. With food. With that dress she saw in the window. Small, trivial things in the long run. Especially compared to her overall goal.

But this time is different. Because this time, it wouldn't just be for her.

Rey glances over her shoulder and noticed Ben wrapping up business with the cheese vendor. A warmth blooms in her chest as she watches him interact with the little old man behind the counter. There's an ease to Ben that wasn't there before. A kindness in the way he smiles and indulges in a bit of small talk.

She wants to get him something. As a way of saying thank you. For giving her a chance at The First Order, for her new knife set, for being a shoulder to cry on. As a way of showing how much she appreciates him. For his strength, for his ambition, for his patience and tenderness.

Rey puts her hand in her pocket and feels the outer edge of her wallet beneath her finger.

She has a decision to make.

* * *

They get back to the house in time to see Leia taking the lasagna out of the oven.

Han is seated in his electric wheel chair at the table. He smiles wide when he lays eyes upon Rey. "Caught yourself a lovely one, son," he says fondly. "It's wonderful to finally meet you, Rey."

"It's nice to meet you, too."

He raises his eyebrows. "An English gal? Whereabouts did you grow up?"

"East London for a little while, and then Sussex until I was eighteen."

"I remember London very well. Used to travel there all the time."

"You did?" she asks as she takes a seat next to Han at the table. Ben pulls out her chair for her -like an absolute gentleman- before joining Leia in the kitchen to deliver the final ingredient needed for lunch.

Han nods and Rey can recognize Ben in the corners of his eyes and the shape of his nose. It occurs to Rey that Ben looks a great deal like his father. She thinks it's sweet.

"I actually met my wife in London," Han says. "I was visiting an old friend. Almost missed the bus, so I was running like a mad man to catch it. Guess who I ran straight into?"

Rey laughs, looking over to Leia. The woman has her hands on her hips, shaking her head in dismay.

"Cussed him up and down for it," Leia says sternly. "Called him a stuck up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf herder."

"Fell in love in an instant," Han adds. "I was only in town for a week, so I did everything under the sun to convince her to give me her number."

Leia rolls her eyes as she and Ben portion out the lasagna onto plates. "This guy just wouldn't take the hint."

"I'm guessing he wore you down eventually," Rey says thoughtfully.

"Boy, did he ever. There's just something about that Solo charm."

Rey gives Ben a sheepish smile as he sets down a plate of food in front of her before taking his place in the chair to her left. She knows all too well what Leia's talking about. It's hard to notice that Ben doesn't say a whole lot, but he doesn't appear to be displeased. Rey wonders if he's just busy taking it all in, treading lightly.

They dig in. Rey can't remember the last time she had a lasagna that was so flavorful. It takes much too long to prepare the meal from scratch, so whenever she has a craving for it, she buys the frozen kind from the local grocery store. But it always comes out a bit soggy and flavorless. This, on the other hand, is an explosion of spices and herbs and cheese. Nothing really beats home cooking.

"How is it?" Leia asks. "It's a little nerve-wracking having professional chefs at my table."

Rey laughs softly. "This is excellent. Really, _really_ good."

Ben nods in agreement, quietly muttering, "Just like I remember it."

They eat in silence for a bit, but it isn't uncomfortable. Rey actually likes it. She can't remember the last time she sat down for a family meal. The last time would have been years and years ago. But instead of allowing the memory to leave a bitter taste in her mouth, she finds herself oddly excited.

"What were you doing in London?" Rey asks Leia curiously.

"I was studying at Oxford at the time."

"What was your major?"

"Political science."

"That's amazing," Rey says and very much means it.

"I thought it would help me get a law degree. Honestly thought I was going to be a lawyer after I graduated from Yale, but I decided to give the political track a go. I served as a senator for two terms."

"I had no idea. That's actually really cool."

"More like time-consuming," Leia says, a hint of something sad ghosting across her eyes.

Rey notices how Ben shifts in his chair, eyes glued to his plate. It appears that she's unknowingly touched a nerve.

"Pass the garlic bread," he says gruffly.

"What about your parents?" Han asks. "They live in London? Or are they nearby."

She freezes. Rey knows he means nothing by it. There's no way he'd know the truth unless Ben told him already, but Rey doubts Ben would even bring up the issue out on his own out of respect.

"I'm... not sure, actually. I haven't seen them in a very long time."

The back of her neck suddenly feels very warm, not because she's flushing with embarrassment, but because Ben has placed a tender hand there. She leans into his touch out of pure instinct, drawn to him and the quiet comfort he offers.

"Embarrassing stories!" Han declares, words slicing through the awkward tension like a knife. "I demand embarrassing stories about my son."

Rey breaks into a grin. "Only if I get to hear embarrassing stories about his childhood in return."

"You drive a hard bargain, little lady. Consider it done."

"Oh, let me go get the photo album!" Leia says with a gasp, jumping straight out of her chair. "He was the cutest baby ever. The biggest ears I ever did see."

Ben pinches the bridge of his nose. "Jesus Christ, save me," he grumbles, but there isn't any heat behind it.

Rey, for one, has never been more delighted.

* * *

Her stomach hurts from laughing. It's genuinely painful. She's curled up in a tight little ball, holding back fits of laughter. It's much too late to make so much noise, but her newfound wealth of information about Ben's unfortunate emo phase is still fresh on her mind.

"You're a little gremlin," he says affectionately as he climbs into bed. "I should have destroyed this pictures when I had a chance." He slides up next to her, and Rey wonders how in the world she feels so safe in his arms.

Rey rolls over and buries her face against his chest. "You're sure you're comfortable? I can sleep on the floor if-"

"Out of the question. Fourteen year old me would be freaking the fuck out right now if he knew he was going to have a girl in his room."

"Ah, I guess we owe it to fourteen year old you, then."

Ben kisses her forehead. They're really starting to become Rey's favorite kind of kisses. Especially when he curls his fingers against the nape of her neck, playing with her hair there.

"Your mom was right, by the way."

"Hm?"

"You really were the cutest."

"Yeah, but then puberty hit me and I was a gangly freak through all of middle school and high school."

"You weren't _that_ gangly."

"I'm pretty sure I was lopsided until I was sixteen. My arms were two different lengths."

"Do you think we would have been friends if we went to the same school together?"

"Maybe? I was kind of a quiet kid. Couldn't talk to a girl to save a life."

Rey laughs, snuggling in closer. "I think we would have been friends. The kind with secret handshakes and friendship bracelets."

Ben hums. "That sounds nice."

She sits up and smiles. "I actually have something for you."

He props himself up on an elbow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, hold on." Rey climbs over him like a damn tree, fishing through her pockets. "Will you close your eyes? And hold your hand out."

"Why?"

"Because it's a surprise."

Ben smirks, doing exactly as instructed. "Why are you so adorable?"

"Genetics," she offers up as a reply.

"Can I open them yet?"

"No."

"Now?"

"You're impossible. Yes, now."

He does, eyes immediately falling to the silver twist of metal now on his left wrist. Rey holds up her own to show off the other half, a bashful smile on her lips. She thinks it suits him. Silver is cool and hard and poised like he is, like the reflection of a full moon glowing off the surface of a lake. Gold is warm and bright and soft like she is, like the sun shining over endless fields with the promise of summer.

"Do you like it?" she asks softly.

"Was this what you were doing at the farmer's market?"

Rey nods. "I saw it and... I don't know. I thought it'd be cute."

Ben takes her hand and pulls her onto his lap, kissing her cheeks, the corners of her lips, a line down her jaw. "I love it, Rey. Thank you."

He wraps her up in a tight hug. Rey circles his neck with her arms and squeezes him back, kissing the crook of his neck.

She can't even begin to describe how happy she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys enjoy the fluff?
> 
> Don't get too comfortable. ( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ)


	28. Good Morning [NSFW]

When Ben wakes up the next morning, he discovers that he hasn't hogged the blankets. He's hogged Rey. He's got her arms slung around her, his long legs tangled in her slender ones. She fits up against him like a dream, her ass tucked perfectly up against his front. He's so unbelievably comfortable that he'd personally prefer to close his eyes and drift off for a few more minutes, happily drowning in the scent of Rey's hair.

Unfortunately, his dick doesn't get the memo.

Ben thinks he can will it away, but then Rey shifts her position slightly, grinding up against his throbbing length. Rey stirs, humming a sigh.

"Good morning to you, too," she says, teasing.

He kisses the back of her head. "Go back to sleep."

She doesn't, though. Instead, she deliberately backs her ass into him and moans, snaking a hand back to caress his cheek. "Come on, baby. Let me help you."

Within an instant, Ben's senses are on high alert. Little sirens inside his skull and he swears it's screaming, " _Girl! Girl! Girl!_ " He can't deny his aching cock any longer, but knows that they're in a less than ideal location. He knows just how loud Rey can get. He actually prefers it. But with his parents home, Ben can't pull out his usual stops to make Rey scream his name.

"We're going to have to be quiet," he whispers, reaching around to slide a hand down the front of Rey's cotton panties. Rey muffles a groan as Ben parts her folds with his fingers. "Fuck, you're already so wet for me."

"Ben-"

"I've got you, sweetheart."

He does little more than brush his fingers up against her clit, but it's enough to make her body tremble beneath him. He draws slow circles against her, amused by how she's struggling to keep her volume under control. The knowledge that he's able to reduce her to a babbling mess with just his finger makes him painfully hard. He grinds his cock against her ass, the friction he finds almost maddening. It's close, but never enough. Rey writhes and whimpers and it's enough to make him go insane.

"Beautiful," he murmurs into her ear. "Love how you move against me."

A groan rips from her throat as climax hits her, wave after wave of pleasure causing her muscles to spasm. Ben has to place a gentle hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. It's for him and him alone. His teasing hand comes away wet with her arousal. He's never been quite so proud to see such a mess.

"Your turn," she mutters, turning over. Ben, for one, doesn't complain in the slightest when she pulls the band of his underwear down to let his cock spring free.

Rey kisses him lazily as she wraps her fingers around his shaft, stroking at an easy firmness. Ben doesn't mind the mild coldness of her hands or the hint of morning breath or the fact that they're definitely making much too much noise. He's in heaven. He supposes he'll always be so long as he's with her.

Ben lets her take control, setting the past. It's maddening just how close he gets only for Rey to ease up at the last second. It's wonderfully cruel. It leaves him wanting more, just within reach. She's prolonging this, he realizes. The glint in her eye tells him that she's having more than a little fun.

"Rey," he rasps. His voice sounds foreign to his own ears. He sounds _desperate_.

"Relax," she coos. "Relax, baby. I'll help you."

He gasps against her lips as she continues her loving strokes, the tension in the pit of his stomach growing tighter and tighter with every pass. "Fuck, sweetheart, I'm going to-"

"Come on. That's it."

Ben reaches down to cum in his own hand, drunkenly kissing Rey like she's ambrosia. He'd gladly starve if it meant he could drink the taste of her lips forever.

He eventually slips out of bed, pulling on his shorts, to tiptoe down the hall to the bathroom to wash up. When he comes back, Rey's curled up in bed -his bed- looking like something out of a dream. Ben crawls back under the covers, pulling her close. If his heart was any happier, it'd burst.

* * *

"Someone's in a good mood," Leia comments as she moseys into the kitchen.

Ben flips the bacon that he's working on, gesturing to the full French press on the kitchen island. "Help yourself. I can't remember how you take your coffee."

"Black is fine, thank you."

"How do you want your eggs?"

His father chuckles as he wheels into the room. "Anything other than scrambled would be great," he says. "Your mother can't poach an egg to save a life."

This earns a light slap across the back of his head, though Leia's fingers barely connect. "Hush."

"Is Rey still asleep?"

Ben nods, moving over to pay attention to the Hollandaise -he's made it from scratch, of course- warming over a double broiler. "She's used to night shifts. I can go get her."

"No, no," Leia says with a quick wave of her hand. "Let her sleep. We wanted the chance to talk to you, anyways."

Ben grimaces. "About?"

"Nothing serious, don't worry."

He moves about the space, refamiliarizing himself with his childhood home. He spent countless hours here as a boy, learning to bake, learning to cook, watching with wide-eyed fascination whenever Uncle Luke came over to whip up some new creation. This is the exact stove that Ben caused his very first grease fire -it was promptly smothered out- at the tender age of eleven. This was where Ben would agonize over every ounce of flour, every tiny gram of salt needed for seasoning. He doesn't remember when he got to the point where he could measure by eye and sound and taste. It just came to him, somewhere along the line, a skill picked up after hours upon hours of practice.

He places two dishes down, one in front of each of his parents. Breakfast today consists of eggs benedict over a fried piece of ham on a toasted English muffin, drizzled over with buttery Hollandaise sauce and a side of bacon, grated hash browns, and a pitcher of orange juice to wash it all down.

Ben doesn't say it, but it warms his heart to see his parents dig in, the looks of delight on their faces sparking something within him he long thought dead.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asks.

Leia glances over at Han before grinning. "Well, as you're probably unaware, it's going to be our fortieth wedding."

"Today?"

His mother nods. "Today."

"Congrats," he says, doing his best not to be stiff and awkward. He's been away for so long that he'd forgotten entirely.

"We were going to tell you a little earlier," Han starts, "but we got a little distracted playing catch up."

"Tell me what?"

"We're hosting a little party," Leia explains. "A small get-together. Tonight. Here."

Ben shifts. "Do you need me out of the way or-"

"No, no. We very much want you here."

He sighs. "Oh, alright. Good. Thank you. Who's, uh... Who all is coming?"

"Oh, just the boys," Han says fondly. "Chewie, Lando. A few of your mother's old colleagues at the senate."

Ben swallows. "Luke?"

Leia's smile is tight, but sympathetic. "He said he'd be making an appearance, yes."

He chews on the inside of his cheek. "I see."

"I think it'll be good for the two of you. To see each other."

Ben doesn't say anything. Everything that's happened... It's a lot. He supposes it's a lot like ripping off a Band Aid. If he could face his parents, surely he can face the mentor he'd let down.

"There's another reason why I bring it up," Leia continues. "I just got off the phone with the caterer I hired for the party."

"Oh?"

"It appears there was some last-minute scheduling issues. They've given me back my safety deposit back, but I'm without anyone to-"

"I can help," Ben offers without hesitation.

"Are you sure?"

"It's no trouble."

Leia smiles and pats Ben on the arm. "Thank you, dear. It'd be a big help."

"What's a big help?" comes a sleepy voice.

Ben looks up and immediately smiles when he sees Rey shuffle in. Her hair's an adorable mess and he wouldn't have it any other way. He pours her a fresh mug of coffee, instinctively moving in to kiss her temple while wrapping an arm around her waist.

"They're having a party tonight to celebrate their anniversary," he explains.

Rey's eyes widen. "Oh, congratulations, you two!"

"They were just asking me if I'd be willing to cater."

Rey peers up at him, half-surprised. "That's fantastic. I'll help."

Han chuckles. "That's alright, kid. We can't ask a guest to work."

"But it's okay to ask _me_?" Ben chides.

"You don't count."

Rey looks to Leia and Han. "I really wouldn't mind. I love working with him. And it'd go much smoother if he had a helping pair of hands."

"If you're sure," Leia says. "Well, I guess we'll look forward to it."

* * *

It feels good to be in command of a kitchen again, even if it's a small one and it's only the two of them. It doesn't get his blood pumping quite the same way. There's an undeniable thrill that comes when orders arrive non-stop. There's something magical about working in a full-scale kitchen, surrounded by noise and smell and bright industrial lights overhead.

But this is still nice. Better than nice, actually. It's comfortable and calm and _fun._ Getting to unabashedly flirt with his sous chef, far from prying eyes, is definitely a bonus, too.

This is a dance that he's done a hundred thousand times. Except this time, it's a different dance. One without the pomp and circumstance, one without excessive flare or stress or the pressure to perform. This is a dance he _enjoys_. Ben and Rey waltz around one another, just as they've done before, but with an ease and an acceptance that this is more than enough. There's beauty in the process, there's elegance in their every cut.

As they put the cannoli in the oven -everything lovingly made by hand- he realizes that he starts to feel it again. This pull to something light, something inexplicable. Working for Snoke had snuffed his passion out, left him in the dark for the longest time. Ben doesn't understand how he didn't see it sooner. Snoke was this close to sucking him dry, a hollow shell of himself. He'd been drifting down a dark path for so long it was a wonder that he didn't crash and burn far sooner.

He doesn't really know where this new path is leading him. It's scary, really, not knowing what the future holds in store.

"Beep beep," Rey says as she moves the tray of stuffed mushrooms directly behind him.

Ben watches her work. She's always had a hypnotizing effect on him, though he's only just realized to what extent. Rey works with a smile, totally in her element. Ben thinks she belongs in the best kitchens out there, to own her own restaurant one day. He isn't just being biased, either. She's really just that good.

The path forward is scary. But as long as he's with her, there's no doubt in his mind that it's the right one.

The party's in full-swing by eight. It's not a huge crowd, but it's still large enough to leave his stomach unsettled. He's not... good with people. Employees, fine. He can order them around all day long and not have to worry about them the second they punch out. But these are some of his parents' oldest friends. Most of them new Han before he was in the chair. Ben isn't sure if he can handle being out there, knowing full well that everyone else knows who he is and what had happened.

"I'll go bring the crab tar tar out," Rey offers. "Are you sure you want to stay here?"

Ben nods and that's all Rey really needs. She understands perfectly, bless her soul. Ben misses her the second she disappears out to the dining room.

He mills about, cleaning as he goes. He's always been very methodical like that. A clean workspace is a safe workspace, after all.

"Shot up like a bamboo shoot, eh?" comes a gruff man's voice from behind.

Ben freezes for a second, gathering his wits before turning to face Luke. He's aged. A lot. Ben has no idea why it surprises him so much. Luke's hair has turned grey, and his beard to match. His eyes sag with wrinkles and unspoken burden. His uncle has his hands stuffed in his pockets, appearing just as uncomfortable as Ben feels.

"I've always been this tall," Ben says lamely.

"I'll have to take your word for it." Luke clears his throat before jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "That your girl?"

"Yeah. Rey."

"She looks familiar."

"She was a student of yours for a little while."

"Ah. Can't say I remember her."

"It was a long time ago."

"Yeah. A _long_ time ago."

As far as awkward conversations go, this one takes the cake. Even the one with his parents hadn't been so bad. At least he had his guilt to do all the talking, not to say that he doesn't feel guilty about the way he left things with his uncle, but it isn't quite the same. Ben hurt Luke in a different way, one that hit his pride.

"I'm sorry," Ben says, giving it a try anyways. "I should have listened to you."

Luke shakes his head. "I don't really want to talk about it."

Ben frowns. "O-kay?"

"When Leia told me you were going to be here, I spent the whole night trying to figure out what I was going to say to you." Luke sighs. "I know it's foolish, but I'm still very upset, Ben."

"I understand. I am, too. At myself."

"Do you remember what you said to me before you ran off to Paris?"

Ben shakes his head. "I... I don't remember. I was... angry."

"You said I ' _was a worthless teacher of no value._ ' You said ' _I was just an old man clinging to my father's glory._ ' I think you said my food tasted like ass, too. Just in a more colorful way."

Ben winces. It's coming back to him now. The things he said in anger were a blur to him. He doesn't remember anything other than seeing red, of feeling so upset and frustrated and furious that he couldn't breathe. He may not recall what was said, but Luke does. Those words hurt his uncle far more than Ben had ever realized.

"I'm sorry."

"I quit afterwards, you know. After you left."

"I'd heard."

"I didn't realize that I'd failed you until it was too late."

"It wasn't your fault. I was a dumb kid."

"Regardless, it was a really bad time for me. For all of us, after you... My best student and nephew wanted nothing to do with me. My best friend was paralyzed. I had to watch as my sister tried to pick up the broken pieces." Something in Luke shifts from sadness to quiet rage. "You have no idea how many nights your mother cried on my shoulder, kid. Do you have any idea how hard it was to watch her struggle to keep it together? All she wanted was a phone call and you couldn't be fucked."

Ben's throat squeezes tight as a stinging pressure builds behind his eyes. "I know," he chokes. "I know I fucked up. I'm... I'm trying to make it better."

"Your parents may have forgiven you. That's what parents do. But I'm still fucking pissed, Ben. It's... Shit. I need more time. What you did..." Luke rubs a hand over his weary face. "I'm sorry. I know this probably isn't your idea of a great family reunion, huh?"

Ben swallows to keep himself from crying. None of this is fair. Snoke took so much from him and Ben _still_ has to suffer the consequences. A part of him wants to be defensive, to use Snoke as an excuse. But the other part of him knows that he needs to own up to it, that some of his decisions were entirely his own. Ben hurt his loved ones, intentionally or not, and he can't expect everyone to forgive and forget no matter how much he wants it.

"I understand," Ben says quietly. "All I can do is say I'm sorry and try to be better."

Luke nods solemnly. "I'll get there. I just need time."

"I'm sorry for the things I said."

"Thanks, kid." Luke clears his throat and straightens his back. "I'm, uh... I'm going to get back to the party. See you out there?"

"Yeah, uh... Maybe."

Luke disappears and Ben's never been more thankful for the quiet that follows.

It takes him a few deep breaths before he stops shaking. Things with Luke aren't ideal, but perhaps with time it'll get better. Ben's making an effort, and right now, he tells himself that that's enough.

"Ben?"

He turns when he hears the sound of Rey's voice. It's warbled, like she's nervous or afraid. Concern shoots straight through him when he notices her brows pulled together in worry. He rushes over, the instinctive need to protect overcoming his senses.

"What happened, sweetheart?"

Rey looks down at the envelope in her hands. Ben hadn't noticed it before. "Your mother, she..."

"What's going on?"

"I said I didn't want to be compensated. I was more than happy to help with the catering, but she insisted."

"She paid you?"

Rey nods, sniffling. "Mm-hmm."

Ben's nothing but confused. "And that's... bad?"

"No. It's a really good thing. She says she has an envelope for you, too."

"Okay, then why do you look like you're about to cry?"

"Because..." Rey sucks in a shaky breath through clenched teeth. "She gave me two grand, Ben. I finally have enough to hire Maz Kanata."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the severe delay in updating. Depression's a bitch LOL Please let me know what you liked most about this chapter! I adore reading your comments.


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